


Breathe Breathe Learn To Live

by 3rdgenderfromthesun



Series: Sniff Sniff Fall in Love [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Assault, Bromance, Childbirth, Happy Ending, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Mating Cycles/In Heat, PTSD, Past Abuse, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 33,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3rdgenderfromthesun/pseuds/3rdgenderfromthesun
Summary: FINAL Story:Stiles and Derek throw caution to the wind and decide they will fight for each other... and themselves.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Series: Sniff Sniff Fall in Love [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1398526
Comments: 28
Kudos: 121
Collections: Sterek love





	1. Chapter 1

PHEW! Done. I'm sorry so many of you disliked this series. I enjoyed writing it and I'll have to be content with that. To the few who liked it: thank you for all the encouragement! Happy Beltane to those who celebrate it. Have a lil sex magic on me! 

Stiles giggled and snapped another photo. Derek growled and flashed red eyes at him. He was far from discouraged, especially with Scott grinning for the pictures as he snuggled into Derek's side. Derek had gotten permission from his mother to form a sub-pack within her pack long before he'd connected with Scott, which allowed him more freedom of movement. His therapist thought it was key to Derek's recovery: he needed to be in control of his life instead of controlled by a powerful woman. His mother was heartbroken over it but understood, and he wasn't _leaving_ her pack just... branching out on his own. Which left him snuggling and snuffling with Scott and Boyd on the couch in Melissa's house to create a stronger, new pack bond between the three alphas.

The place they were snuggling in was Scott's mother's house, and it had come at a great price. Omegas being the prize of the community, they had far less freedom than other genders but were considered more valuable than even alphas were since they were rare _and_ the key to giving birth to more alphas. Abusing one happened often due to the imbalance of power, but it was punished aggressively to discourage it. Often it meant years of community service, but in the case of a high profile FBI agent- who saw the worst kinds of abuse to omegas and _should_ have known better- the judge had been particularly aggressive. He'd been stripped of his ownership of his family's house and a huge chunk of every paycheck went to Melissa, and of course, he wasn't allowed near her ever again. The results were that she had a huge house for just herself and Scott and had taken steps on her own to become a beta.

When Scott became a werewolf he'd complained over the distance between himself and the pack he craved, so Melissa had suggested moving someone else in. He hadn't known most of Talia's pack, but Derek and Erica had a connection to Stiles and that made them family. The house was the draw for Derek, as well as Stiles' close relationship to the occupants of the house. Boyd and Erica had already moved into the sunroom downstairs, and of course, Isaac lived with Scott since that was his mate. Melissa had given them the master bedroom so they had more space and taken a spare room downstairs that had once been an office so she could come and go comfortably on her odd shifts even when babies started showing up. Now Derek and Stiles were going to move into the guest bedroom upstairs, but first Derek had to establish this as his sub-pack. He was going to be the pack alpha, so he had to bond to the other alphas and Scott's now-beta mother. She was at work, so Derek was on the couch snuggled with Scott and Boyd and making Stiles squee at the cute.

“Oh, come on! Smile! Lemme see those bunny teeth!”

“I do _not_ have bunny teeth!” Derek snarled, flashing fangs instead.

Stiles took the picture anyway.

“Stiles!” Derek growled, “This is supposed to be a serious moment!”

“It doesn't have to be,” Scott pointed out, wuffling beneath Derek's ear where his scent was strong, “It can be fun! Stiles is already my bro, and now you are, too! We should be comfortable with cuddling because Stiles is hella snuggly and we're probably going to end up the bread to his sandwich every movie night.”

“Boyd, help me out here,” Derek gave Vernon a desperate look.

Boyd leaned forward from where he had placed himself, cool as you please, beneath Derek's arm for the duration of their puppy pile. He made eye contact with Scott's big puppy eyes as the other young man pleaded his case with pure unadulterated cuteness. He took in a slow breath but his eyes moved on to Derek when he spoke.

“You're not allergic to feelings, Derek. You'll survive.”

“This was a _terrible_ idea,” Derek snarked, but then saw the wounded, worried look on Stiles' face, “I'm just... It was a joke. I'm joking.”

“I get the feeling Derek's the kind of guy whose used to looking tough all the time,” Isaac stated, walking in with some glasses of lemonade and putting them down on the table, “Like Jackson. He's going to kick up a stink any time he has to do something besides pose like a model and look cool.”

“Ew,” Stiles grimaced, “I am _not_ mated to Jackson... but that does explain a few difficulties we've had. If you're busy being a tough guy you're going to leave an expressive guy like me confused.”

Derek nodded, “My therapist-” Derek glanced at Scott and Boyd in embarrassment and then plowed ahead, “My therapist says that I've buried my feelings to protect myself, but yeah. I was a jock, too.”

“I mean, I love lacrosse so I'm a bit of a jock myself,” Stiles sat on the coffee table only to be chased off by Isaac, “I don't believe in the separation of Jock and Geek.”

Derek smiled up at him, “You're adorable.”

Stiles blushed crimson and sputtered a moment, making Scott coo at how cute he was and snap a picture of his own.

“Um, thanks,” Stiles laughed, scratching at his cheek awkwardly, “You're not so bad yourself.”

“See?!” Scott crowed, making Derek wince at his volume, “You two are going to be fine with us supporting you.”

“We get the therapy thing,” Boyd told him, “It's fine. We know you have issues. We've got some, too.”

“Yup,” Erica winked as she posed in a chair like a model, one leg crossed over the other and breasts spilling out of her top, “We've got your back big guy.”

“I'm used to Stiles' spastic behavior, so I'll keep him reigned in,” Scott nodded.

“Hey!” Stiles threw a coaster at him.

“Will you losers stop tearing Melissa's den up?!” Isaac smacked the back of Stiles' head, “This is a _nice house_ , not a man cave like your dad's place!”

“Or Isaac will,” Scott snickered.

“Ugh, chill out!” Stiles groused, “Point is, while we heal up we'll have support here. Lots of it. So snuggle up, boys! You've got a pack to build!”

A few hours later Derek headed up the steps to his new room with Stiles. Scott had already told him he could move everything out if he wanted to, but they hadn't gone back to Talia's place to get Derek's things. He'd been staying in a guest bedroom for weeks when Stiles had come and lured him away from his shop. He was more interested in re-bonding with Stiles than getting his things, but the room he entered smelled like potpourri and dust. It had been cleaned, of course, but these things lingered. The sheets needed to smell like them so Derek stripped down to his boxers and rolled around on the top covers.

“From cute to _hot_ ,” Stiles admired, “I don't smell scared again, do I?”

“Nope,” Derek shifted the blankets down and rolled on the ones beneath, “Come here and help me.”

“It's a scent thing, right?”

“Yeah.”

Stiles wiggled out of his clothes while Derek was rubbing his face all over the pillows and hesitantly climbed in with them. He wasn't really sure if they were _ready_ for this, but here he was. In bed with his mate. Who he hadn't had his hands on in... had he ever had his hands on him? It seemed like he'd mostly just laid back and been had each time they'd been together.

“Roll around and-” Derek sat up from where he'd been scent-marking the pillow and stopped talking at the sight of a very naked Stiles, “Oh.”

“Uh...” Stiles suddenly felt very, very ridiculous, “Should I get dressed again?”

“Never.”

“That... would make dinner super awkward.”

Derek snorted and they both dissolved into laughter as the tension they'd felt for months culminated into a bit of hysteria. By the time they got themselves under control they were holding each other up and gasping for breath.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles rubbed at one eye, “Scent marking the bed. On it.”

Stiles laid down on his back in the bed and wiggled around, rubbing his shoulders against it and humming a song as he shuffled about.

“It ends now,” Derek stated.

Stiles froze, “Uh... what?”

Derek frowned, eyebrows nearly obscuring his eyes, “You were just humming _How Can We Be Lovers._ Aren't the words-”

“Oh! If the fighting never ends!” Stiles sat up quickly, “I wasn't paying attention.”

“My therapist might have a thought on your unconscious song selection,” Derek smiled.

“Wow,” Stiles gazed up at him in wonder, “You have the most amazing smile. I want to see that more often.”

“I'm pretty sure I've smiled around you before,” Derek snorted, “We weren't _completely_ miserable. We had fun more than once.”

“Yeah, but I was so busy looking at everything except you, missing freedom and friends, that I didn't really pay attention to _you_. I'm really sorry about that, Derek.”

Derek shook his head, “Enough of that. We've blamed each other left and right. I only want to talk about the past in therapy. I want to talk about the _future_ with you.”

“Those are some guidelines I can get behind,” Stiles replied, sitting up and pressing their foreheads together.

“We should make others.”

“Guidelines?”

“Yeah. Rules to make this better, because apparently I have control issues.”

Stiles snorted, “All alphas have control issues.”

“Sexist.”

“Sexy.”

Derek laughed lightly, “Seriously. No past outside of therapy. Your turn. Go.”

“Ummmmm, compliment each other. That... that felt really good down there. Like, I _know_ you find me attractive, but hearing it makes me stop and think about _us_.”

“I like that,” Derek nuzzled their noses together, “I like this, too. You naked. I want some healthy body positivity. So whenever possible let's just be naked together, outside of sex that is. Casual nudity. It's a very werewolf thing and makes me feel secure, plus it's just nice having your skin in contact with mine.”

“That will help me a lot, actually. I think... do you want to wait to have sex? Or...”

“I don't want us to stress over it and put it off again,” Derek stated, “We both have needs and we're mates. We can focus on our relationship and have sex at the same time. Let's just let it happen if and when it does. Preferably before we die of old age.”

“That sounds like an invitation,” Stiles smirked, running a hand over Derek's shoulders.

Derek's breath stuttered, “Moon and stars, I love you touching me.”

“Mm, me too,” Stiles snuggled into his neck, breathing in his scent as if he were a werewolf and drawing a soft croon from Derek, “But we were making rules.”

“It's your turn,” Derek grumbled, snuffling Stiles' neck and kitten licking his soft skin just to taste him.

“Umm... oh, that's distracting... Uh... How about... I don't have your nose and I _swear_ you werewolves talk with them more than your words so... how about you tell me what you're smelling off me so I can tell you when it's a reaction to you and when I'm just overthinking something, and if there's something you can't say out loud you write it down?”

Derek nuzzled along Stiles' shoulder and gave it a nip, “Okay, I can do that. It might take time for it to work out. A lot of it is instinctive. Like facial expressions.”

“Ugn, okay, I like biting. Biting is good,” Stiles panted.

Derek straightened up, taking his mouth away from the awesome task it had been performing and ignoring Stiles' indignant protests.

“Spending time with our families. Yours _and_ mine. Dinner once a week with each? I don't want either of us to feel isolated again.”

“I really like that one,” Stiles smiled fondly, “What else? Hmm.”

Stiles traced a nipple with one finger and Derek suddenly felt like he was wearing too much clothing. He was just reaching for his boxers when the door to their room flew open.

“KNOCK FIRST!” Derek snarled, but it wasn't Scott or any new packmate, it was a stranger.

  
Derek dove in front of Stiles immediately, not wanting the intruder to see his mate nude. A moment later he took in the name tag with Eichen's logo and he let out an angry roar. Stiles' arms wrapped around him from behind, his hands making soothing circles over Derek's stomach and chest even as he made soft shushing sounds.

“They can't take me if you don't want them too,” He reminded him, “I'm still yours.”

“So it's true?” The man looked shocked, “I thought Stiles was trying to escape and Scott was squirreling him away. My apologies Alpha Hale. May many cubs adorn your union... try not to bring him back again.”

“Never,” Derek growled deeply.

Greg- Derek belatedly recognized him- shut the door on their conversations again. Stiles immediately went from gentle and calming touches to hungry scratches and needy sounds.

“Holy shit, that was hot like fire,” Stiles panted as he licked the shell of Derek's ear and turned him to putty, “I want you so fucking much right now. Growly at me? Scary. Growly at others? _Uhnnn!”_

“Okay, so no growling at you?” Derek's voice cracked, “That might be hard to-”

“Nooooo, it's complicated. Your growling is hot, just... ugh, we'll work on it. Boxers off. Now. Body positive nudity. And dick rubbing. Soooo much rubbing.”

Derek fumbled with his boxers and slid them down with a quick lift of his hips. Stiles immediately cupped his ass from behind and _whimpered_. Derek's cock was thickening with every sound Stiles made, although he was always low level aroused when he was around his mate. Stiles seemed to have forgotten Derek had healing powers and was doing his level best to suck a love bite into his neck. It felt fantastic and sent shivers of excitement through his body.

“Stiles,” Derek panted, “Fucking hell, Stiles!”

“Yeah, say my name,” Stiles growled, detaching himself from Derek's neck and shuffling back, “Come and get me, I'm not gonna freak this time. Psych med powers!!”  
  


Stiles punched the air happily and watched the transformation that took over Derek's face when he turned and gave him a broad smile. He never actually _stopped_ looking like a predator, even when he was happy or sleeping, but that smile tugged on Stiles' heart. He felt their budding bond thrum. Every smile felt like a promise that they _could_ have a fresh start. They could do this. They could _make it._ It made Stiles feel hope and relief from the constant worry that hung over him. It also made him _throb._

Derek turned in the bed and pulled Stiles in, sweeping him up and laying him across his lap to pull him into a long, deep kiss. They had shared few kisses, usually brief pecks, and Stiles usually either went stiff with fear or went limp. This time he went _feral_. He gripped Derek's hair in his fist and kissed back for all he was worth, tangling their tongues together in a way that was almost a bit much. Derek kept forgetting Stiles was just so _new_ at all this. He pulled back from the kiss, half to catch his breath and half to tease him about kissing like a middle school teen, but Stiles was already twisting around in his arms and clamoring to his knees.

“Oh gods, my heat was _torture_. Knowing what a knot was and not getting it? Those toys are, like, not the right size! They gave me a bigger one because I'm not a virgin anymore, but it was, like, _so wrong._ Not the right... like... hardness? Density?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Derek snorted.

“No. Get used to it.”

“I plan to,” Derek purred, turning to find Stiles bouncing on his knees on the bed where he'd wriggled away.

“Lie down, I'm gonna ride it like I stole it!” Stiles punched the air with both fists.

Derek laughed lightly but moved to lie down for Stiles. They'd tried it like this once _before,_ but even with Stiles in control, he'd been too freaked out. Derek had wilted from the stink of anxiety. He didn't smell scared now. A bit nervous, yes, but not afraid. He smelled like desire and need and his sweet, delicious omega slick. Derek helped him settle- mostly to save himself from Stiles landing wrong- and took the opportunity to slide his fingers through his wet cleft.

Derek brought his fingers to his face, breathing his scent in like an addict before sucking on three fingers with a deep moan. Stiles gaped down at his mate who lay there like a buffet and sounded like a porno. Stiles had wanted him from the moment he caught his scent, but everything had been so fucked up that he'd never _really_ gotten what he wanted. Awkward claiming? Yawn. Frantic fucking? Not exactly a teenage romance in the making. This was what he wanted. Derek in his arms, looking at him like he was his entire world, as gone on him as Stiles was on the muscular alpha.

“You sound like sex on wheels,” Stiles panted.

“No, that's my car,” Derek smirked.

Stiles laughed lightly, cock bouncing against his belly, “Don't distract me. ADHD will have me talking cars instead of fucking you.”

“Speaking of,” Derek gestured down at his cock that Stiles was hovering over. There was a spike in his scent, a bit of anxiety as he looked down, but Stiles let out a slow breath and muttered a few words to himself and it went away.

“He won't hate it. He won't hate it,” Stiles breathed.

“Hate is definitely the opposite,” Derek groaned, reaching down to hold his cock upright so Stiles could slide down it. _If he ever would._

“I... uh... don't take criticism well,” Stiles told him, “Like, tell me if I do something wrong but phrase it _very gently_. Make sure I still feel pretty, you know?”

“You're _fucking gorgeous,”_ Derek growled, then tried to get it under control to avoid scaring Stiles.

It had the opposite effect. Stiles' groaned at the sight of Derek's red eyes and reached back to rub at his pucker, “Oh my gosh, I'm gonna have _all the sex_ with you!”

“Any day now!” Derek pleaded.

Stiles had his head thrown back and judging by the arm movements he was fingering himself rather aggressively. His mouth fell open and he let out a soft keen of need that made Derek clench his muscles to stop himself from thrusting up. The long column of Stiles' neck was enticing, so to distract himself from needing to be inside Stiles _immediately_ he sat up to start marking it up. He had just gotten a good hickey started when Stiles let out a broken sound and spilled across his belly. Derek glanced down in surprise and Stiles went pale.

“Oh. Shit. Um. I'm used to doing this by myself, you know? I'm _so sorry_. Uh... I can go again?”

“We don't have to,” Derek grimaced as his cock throbbed more. The scent of Stiles' release, like a more concentrated form of the slick leaking from his back entrance, was pure torture. Derek would just jerk off with it, that's all. He'd be _fine._

“Oh my gosh, stop! Don't with the martyrdom thing! Please just... I'm wet and open and willing. Hear my words, okay? Words. Not stink. I'm embarrassed, but that doesn't mean I wanna stop.”

“Embarrassed doesn't stink,” Derek shook his head, “Sex gets embarrassing sometimes, for both of us. Besides you... you getting so excited you come is... hot. Sexy. I want you all the time, Stiles. I want to lick every inch of your body and mark you up and just...”

Stiles pushed Derek down on the bed and tried to roll them over like in a movie, but Derek didn't catch on fast enough so he didn't move with Stiles. The omega ended up tugging at Derek's arm while Derek gave him a confused look and then clued in and rolled on top of him. Stiles' legs wrapped around Derek's thighs and waist and Stiles' hips lifted off the bed as he tried to take Derek in from below. Derek almost didn't get his hand around his cock in time to line it up as Stiles arched. Heat. The sudden wet glory of his mate's body wrapped around his cock was absolute bliss. Stiles slid down his length like silk, expression going from adoring due to Derek's words to one of glassy-eyed awe as he fell back on the bed and Derek slid back out again. Derek couldn't let that continue and quickly buried himself to the hilt. Stiles let out a soft, guttural grunt, shifted a bit where he lay speared on Derek's length, and then let out a long, shuddering moan.

“Oh my gosh this is... fucking hell, Derek, it's...”

“Yes,” Derek's eyes fell shut and he shuddered as his knot began to swell, “Going to be fast for me, too.”

Derek did manage to get a few quick thrusts in, which had Stiles' prick starting to firm up and Derek's heavy balls slapping Stiles' plump bottom, but neither wanted that to continue for long. Soon Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles in a tight hug and Stiles' thighs gripped Derek's hips to hold them in place until they were tied together. Stiles' hot body clenched his knot, squeezing him into oblivion and leaving Derek writhing beneath him. He rolled his hips instinctively, rubbing his knot against Stiles' p-spot and making him insane.

Stiles was tossing his head and grinding against Derek's knot like a harlot and he didn't give a single fuck who knew. He moaned and gasped and groaned and shouted Derek's name as the alpha lit up his body from head to toe. He'd always thought once the knot expanded you'd just... sit there. Wait for it to go down. Talk about the weather. Nope. Not even. Neither of them were close to done. Derek was convulsing through orgasm after orgasm and Stiles was getting a light show behind his eyes with every roll of his hips. He reached down to cup Derek's balls, partly because he _still_ had barely touched the guy and partly because that's what they did in corny romance novels, and felt his firm orbs tight against his body and pumping out more and more seed. Stiles was chanting Derek's name and scratching at his chest like a cat while Derek gasped and tossed his head.

“Stiles, you... too much...” Derek gasped.

“S'so good!” Stiles cried out.

Derek's hand wrapped around Stiles' prick and began to jerk him off with firm pulls, and, okay, that was _fucking awesome._

“Yes! That! Fuck!” Stiles shouted, and decorated Derek's belly with a few more drops of clear fluid. Derek's come would be milky, but Stiles' was clear. Just more slick so he had extra for entrance if needed. Derek decided that extra had a better purpose and ran his fingers through it before putting them back in his mouth and sucking lewdly, “What is with you and sucking on your fingers!”

Derek peeked one eye open just in time to see Stiles sag in exhaustion. Stiles lay beneath him, dripping sweat, smelling like _home,_ and panting like he'd run a marathon.

“Stiles,” Derek rumbled, “About that criticism you were worried about.”

Stiles went suddenly stiff, “I... was that not... did I...”

“I haven't got any.”

Stiles snorted, “Asshole.”

“I could write sonnets about _yours_.”

“Oh _no_ , you're corny after sex!”

“An entire score, actually.”

“And ridiculous!”

Derek chuckled, “At least a limerick.”

“Go to _sleep_ ,” Stiles groaned, “I'm so tired of sleeping without you. I just want to sleep in your arms. I don't even care that it's still sunny out.”

Derek wrapped them around Stiles, holding him tightly as they slowly caught their breath. When goosebumps started to appear on his skin Derek threw a blanket over them both. He wanted to stay awake. Getting Stiles back felt like a dream come true, what if he woke up and it _was_ just a dream? He couldn't believe that after the fuss he'd kicked, after _kicking him out of his life_ , and then making an ass of himself while drunk, and... all the things they'd agreed not to talk about... that Stiles had given him another chance. They might just make it, but it would be hard work.

Luckily neither of them were afraid to get their hands dirty.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek awoke to the sound of his cell phone ringing and had to tear himself away from Stiles- a bit too literally- and scramble to answer. Stiles swore and let out a pitiful mewl about a shower.

“Derek?” Talia's voice sounded frantic.  
  


“Hey, mom,” Derek groaned, “Whaz, something wrong?”

“Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Um... I'm at Scott's house,” Derek sat up fully, rubbing at his face to wake himself up and glancing at the time on his phone, “It's two in the morning, what's wrong?”

“You didn't come home last night,” She replied, sounding choked up, “I thought... I thought you were...”

“I don't live with you anymore,” Derek huffed, “How did you know I didn't... you've been having them spy on me.”

“It's not _spying,_ ” She sounded actually offended, “You've been in and out of crisis for months, Derek. I asked them to call me if they had any reason to worry, not report your every move. I worry.”

“Mm,” Derek grunted, accepting her answer, “I'm fine. Just...”

Derek suddenly came fully awake as he realized his mother _didn't know._ He hadn't called her or the couple he'd been staying with or _anyone_. He hadn't even told _Laura._

“Stiles and I are together again,” Derek breathed out, relief flooding his system at being able to say those words and not feel dread, “Scott didn't remove my claim. He's-”

“Oh no,” Talia sounded terrified, “Derek, I... I'll be right there.”

“What? No, mom-”

She hung up.

“Uh...” Stiles sat up slowly, “I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you were really close and- she sounds not okay with this.”

Derek huffed, “She doesn't have a say in this. Go back to sleep. I'll handle her.”

“No way,” Stiles sat up, giving him a frown and folding his arms, “We're in this together. We need to, like, handcuff ourselves together and not separate until we get used to each other enough to function.”

Derek snorted, “Save the kinky stuff for when the sex gets boring.”

“Sex gets _boring?!”_ Stiles sputtered, “Wait... I never even _thought about kink_ with you! Are you into anything? Oh, shit, we should talk triggers. Mine is criticism in bed. Yours is probably older women, but wh-”

“Come on, we might as well get up and have some tea or something,” Derek decided, noting that Stiles was _very awake_.

Stiles shook their hands where they were clasped as they walked down the stairs and whispered, “This is nice. Like dating.”

Derek mentally planned out a dozen dates while Stiles tugged him towards the kitchen only to have Derek jerk him behind him and catch a bat as it swung towards Stiles' head.

“Whoa!” Melissa shouted.

“Mm,” Derek grunted, pulling it out of her hands, “What are you doing?”

“Do you even _play_ baseball?” Stiles sputtered.

“It's for protection,” She panted, “I didn't know you two were here, what are you two doing here? What is _Stiles_ doing with _you?_ Scott!”

Melissa walked past them to shout up the stairs.

“He passed me like a buck,” Stiles snickered, following after her, “I take it you didn't know either?”

“No!” Melissa shouted, “Are you two hiding from Eichen?!”

Scott stumbled down the steps with red eyes and claws out, “What is it? Whose attacking? Or... what's attacking?”

“See? You don't need a bat, you have _werewolves_.”

“Yeah, plural,” Melissa gestured at Derek and towards the sunroom where Boyd and Erica were emerging with sleepy eyes.

“What's going on?” Erica groused, “I need my beauty sleep. It's kinda new to me, you know?”

“No it isn't,” Boyd scolded her gently.

“What is going on?!” Melissa demanded.

“My mother will be here shortly,” Derek told her, “We might as well explain it once instead of twice.”

“Has anyone called Noah,” Melissa groaned.

“No,” Derek replied.

“I texted him when Scott picked me up so he didn't call Eichen and get told I was gone. He's expecting me to stay here anyway. I'll tell him the whole story later. Honestly, he probably expected this. He always sees right through me.”

“Maybe he can give me pointers,” Derek grumbled.

“Oh, hey yeah!” Stiles grinned, “You two should talk!”

Derek had a moment to think that was a terrifying idea when someone knocked sharply at the door. Melissa answered it, but was brushed aside by Talia as she swept in and headed unerringly for Derek.

“Oh, my baby, are you okay? Come on, we're leaving. You're not going through this again.”

“What? No, you gave me permission to start a sub-pack, and this is-”

“I'm not letting that _brat_ hurt you again!”

“Hey, fuck you, lady!”

Everyone as one turned to stare at Melissa in absolute shock as she stood there with her hands on her hips. Stiles looked her up and down in awe and Scott stage whispered, “My mom knows _swear words?”_

“Excuse me?” Talia sputtered, “That is _Alpha Hale_ , to you! _Pack_ Alpha Hale! As in your son's-”

“I'm his mother before you're his alpha, and if you think otherwise you've been huffing wolfsbane,” Melissa stepped forward to stare up at Talia as if she didn't have three inches, sharp teeth, and claws on her, “And _that brat_ is my surrogate son, so you don't besmirch his name in my house.”

“Or out of it,” Derek stated firmly, “He's my _mate,_ mother.”

“He left you _utterly_ _devastated_!” Talia argued.

“He didn't,” Derek insisted, “I was damaged goods before I met him.”

“You're not damaged De-,” Talia and Stiles both started at the same time, and then gave each other startled looks.

“Jinx, owe me a coke,” Stiles huffed.

Talia screwed up her face and shook her head, turning back to Derek, “I can't lose you, Derek, please just... give him to Scott. _He_ can start a sub-pack. They can start their _own_ pack. He can leave ours and you never have to see Stiles again.”

“Stiles is _not_ the problem,” Derek insisted firmly, “Mom, you _know_ that. What is this? I'm so... _relieved_ right now! Why don't you trust your nose?”

“Because when you trusted yours it drove you to a _mental_ _hospital_!” Talia blinked back tears, hugging herself when Derek stepped away from her reaching hands.

“That _wasn't Stiles' fault._ That was Kate's!”

“Kate?” Stiles' eyes would have flashed if he were a werewolf.

“Shit,” Derek hissed.

“Kate who?” Talia's eyes _did_ flash, “Derek, _Kate who?!”_

Derek shook his head, grabbed Stiles' hand, and tugged him towards the stairs, “I'm going back to bed.”

Melissa stepped up behind Talia and took one trembling arm in both hands, “Come on, momma. Sit down. I'll make you some tea.”


	3. Chapter 3

Noah rubbed the bridge of his nose and then dropped his hand to stare at his son where he sat across from him in his office.

“What?” Stiles shrugged, “Don't tell me I finally surprised you?”

“You never stop surprising me, Stiles,” Noah told him firmly, “You also never cease to amaze me.”

“Got my prince charming!” Stiles crowed, tugging on Derek's arm as he sat beside him.

“He won't even let us pee separately,” Derek stated, “How did you ever leave for work?”

“Usually when he's unbearable I give him something to do. Projects or whatever. Let him file papers around here... Of course, I once mentioned that he could keep me healthy by learning to cook and now my own fridge is my worst nightmare, so watch where you go with that.”

“Noted,” Derek sighed, but he looked at Stiles as if the sun showed out of his ass, so Noah wasn't overly worried.

It had been difficult watching them walk through the door together. When Stiles had first brought Derek home he'd been so excited, but then like an outgrown toy Derek had been shelved. Noah had watched the young man become angrier and angrier, eyes glowing red as he stalked after Stiles through the house without his son even noticing. He'd seen the worst of the world as a cop and maybe that had left some scars. He looked at Derek and saw an alpha becoming unhinged. Noah prided himself on not being the kind of man who assumed that every werewolf- or any other minority group- were a threat but seeing his only son being hunted like prey was terrifying and it had made him react poorly to the situation. Stiles was precious to him, and he was also all he had left of Claudia. Having him in Eichen had been awful, but losing him to an abusive partner? Unthinkable.

Noah had done what he could. He'd reminded Stiles almost every day to spend time with Derek, but that usually involved dragging him to the couch to watch _Stiles'_ favorite movies, or to the kitchen to watch him cook for Noah, or to the park to watch him play Lacrosse with Scott, or to the mall where Stiles was so distracted by shiny things that Derek would buy them all to try to get his attention until they returned and Stiles shelved them right beside his mate.

Stiles looking perpetually terrified whenever he fled the room from Derek's attention didn't help much. He'd been twitchy before he'd left for Eichen, but his panic attacks had been under control. Derek seemed to bring out the worst in him, or so Noah had thought. Stiles had explained- once he'd finally let Noah visit again- that a huge part of it was the dramatic change between Eichen and free life. Even before Eichen he'd been incredibly restricted, but _afterward_ he'd gone on a freedom bender with a side order of terror of the big, wide world. Derek had just... taken the brunt of it, apparently.

Noah knew all about taking the brunt of things with an unwell partner. When Claudia had been dying she'd been... deranged was a nice way of putting it. Noah hated how much Stiles had seen, but he couldn't just keep his son _away._ Yet it had undoubtedly caused lasting damage.

Stiles had been an excitable child, eager to explore. He'd wanted to be a cop. He wanted to be involved in everything. He had stolen a police scanner at _eight._ After his mother died Noah had had to drag him to the station for a solid year. It had almost been a relief when Stiles had emerged as an omega. He'd gotten a kit to secure their home and barricaded him inside, doing like every responsible parent by putting the fear of rape in him. Stiles couldn't leave his home without Noah, Melissa, or Scott. He couldn't go to school. He had to stay in the house, do schoolwork remotely, and practice being a house spouse for some nice alpha someday. Noah had blamed himself when Stiles turned 18 and still didn't have a mate. He'd never taken him to a single meet and greet or Alpha/Omega dance at the high school. Stiles hadn't had a _chance_ to meet anyone, and as a result, he'd been in Eichen for two years just... feeding a mental illness without a parent to tell him it was okay to be not okay.

Now he planned on struggling through it with a young man who was equally fucked in the head and Noah was... skeptical. He worried they'd feed each other's illness like they had the _first_ time, but Stiles insisted that now that they knew what they were dealing with they'd be fine. To be fair, they looked... better. Much better. Stiles was happy and excited and not looking at him sideways as if he'd bite quite as much. Derek still couldn't take his eyes off of Stiles, but now it looked more like adoration instead of an unhealthy obsession.

Good. Stiles deserved to be adored.

The little shit.

“You promise me you'll go to therapy?” Noah worried.

“Yeah, yeah, I promise! We came here to ask you to dinner, dad,” Stiles smiled broadly.

“Fine, it's a date. An awkward three-wheel date.”

“It's dinner with the _family_ , jerk,” Stiles laughed, “Melissa will be there, too. So all four wheels. Next week we're doing Derek's... once Talia has had time to come to terms with me absconding with her son. Again.”

“Oh boy,” Noah rubbed at his head for a moment, watching as Stiles stood up and gestured toward the door.

“Give me a moment with my pops, I'll be right out.”

“Oh, you're leaving my side? That's not suspicious at all,” Derek rolled his eyes, “I'll go outside so you can talk about me behind my back properly.”

“You know me so well already!” Stiles crowed.

Noah watched as Derek walked away, a bit of bounce in his step just to remind Stiles what he was missing. Stiles watched him go appreciatively until he'd gone out the far door and then shut Noah's office door as well. When Stiles turned his expression was dark and foreboding, his smile and bounce replaced with rage and clenched teeth. Noah straightened in his seat in alarm.

“What?” He demanded angrily. If Derek _was_ hurting him...!

“I need everything, and I mean _everything_ , on every single woman named Kate who lived in Beacon Hills while Derek was in high school.”

“Stiles, that's insane, why would you-”

“Print it out. In my hands. ASAP.”

“Stiles, I need a last name. _At least.”_

“She's married and an ephebophile. She'll have gone after other teenage boys. She might have a record, but don't bet on it.”

Noah stood up slowly, “You better give me an explanation. Right now.”

“That bitch raped my mate and she is going to answer for it.”

BAMF STILES! BAMF STILES! It's waaaay past time.


	4. Chapter 4

Jethro put the roast down on the table and grinned broadly at everyone despite the awkwardness. He waited a moment and then huffed.

“I just put three hours worth of food on this table, where are my compliments?”

The table erupted in praise of the display and smell and Jethro sat down with a smile and several nods.

“That's better,” He stated.

Once he was seated all the alphas who had risen when he'd entered sat again, including Derek at Stiles' side. Talia was looking tense but hadn't said anything about them splitting up so they both counted that as a win. Laura was thrilled Stiles was back. The two had hit it off from the door and he kept calling her 'Big Sis' and she kept groaning over having another brother. Cora was just back from college and meeting Stiles for the first time. She had been hesitant to warm up to him, but they shared a lot of interests so Derek was sure it would happen.

“You all can take a breath,” Stiles told them as they all ate in complete silence, “It's going way better this time, right Der?”

“Don't call me that,” Derek replied automatically, and then rolled his eyes at himself for being an ass.

Stiles laughed, “See? We're talking now! Communication is key! Teamwork makes the dreamwork!”

“How are you two mates?” Cora laughed, “You're polar opposites!”

“Opposites attract,” Derek snapped, pulling her hair spitefully.

“Derek, stop picking on your sister,” Talia scolded.

“Yeah, pick on me instead,” Stiles flirted, waggling his eyebrows.

Various sounds of disgust and groans of amusement went up around the table and Derek flushed scarlet, “You're incorrigible.”

“Mm, big words,” Stiles winked.

“Do you two need to be alone?” Laura chided.

“No, we were already 'alone' today,” Derek gave Stiles a glare.

“Twice!” Stiles chirped.

More sounds of disgust and amusement, but Stiles' weird brand of humor had broken the ice. Conversation resumed around the table, with Cora talking excitedly about classes. Stiles wasn't going this year. He had a lot of healing to do, but he was still making plans to enter the police force someday.

“I'm gonna spend some time studying this guy right here,” Stiles stared into Derek's eyes and the older man melted, “Besides, I want kids and that makes things complicated. I never really thought about all the shit my dad went through raising me while being a cop. He's starting to talk about it now that I'm thinking about family and it's scary hearing him talk about every time a perp threatened him and how my 'wide and innocent eyes flashed before his'. Of course, he might just be trying to scare me, which means I can not let him win. It's a toss-up.”

“When you're ready you'll do great,” Derek told him, convinced Stiles' mind wasn't going to change at any point soon, “Besides, you won't be raising a kid alone like your dad was. And by raising a kid, I mean _not anytime soon_ , so dad, you can stop giving me those looks.”

“Yup. I have time,” Stiles sighed happily, snuggling into his side.

“No canoodling at the table, you two,” Talia scolded.

“We'd never!” Stiles gasped as though offended, “Well, not _this_ table. Man, was Isaac mad!”

“Stiles!” Derek scolded.

“I'm just saying, we cleaned it up!”

“Oh my stars,” Derek groaned in humiliation.

“That reminds me,” Talia glanced up, “I wanted a word with you, Stiles, after dinner.”

“About canoodling?!” Stiles gave her a horrified look.

Talia laughed, “No! No! Your banter just reminded me that you and I need to spend some time bonding as well. I'd like to make sure that _this_ time around you're getting our full support. So I'd like to get to know you more.”

“That's awesome! Derek's doing the same with my dad,” Stiles stated, and Derek nodded agreement.

“Excellent, we'll convene in my study after dessert.”

“That's super official and not nerve-wracking at all,” Stiles nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

“Stiles is right,” Derek nodded, “Werewolves do have a really sarcastic type of humor. It's almost cultural to say the opposite of what we actually mean. It's a way to tease each other, test our abilities to sniff out emotions, and hear heartbeats. I know humans do it too, though. _Especially_ Stiles, so I don't understand the problem.”

“Oh, we do it a _lot_ ,” Stiles nodded, “I'm one of the most sarcastic people I know. The issue is more that I can't fill in the blanks that you can. Like I rely on facial expression, tone of voice, or context to know when humans are being sarcastic. You have one facial expression- it's a scowl, by the way- your voice is deadpan, and I'm missing all your scent context. ”

Moran, Derek's therapist turned couples counselor, nodded at both their observations and then tapped her pen in consideration.

“I wonder, Stiles. You say you _enjoy_ your banter with Derek outside of the bedroom. What makes you uncomfortable with it while _in_ bed.”

“Ugh, my experiences in Eichen. Or rather lack of experiences,” Stiles groaned, “I was going on heat quarterly for a while till they got my suppressants on, so my first year as an omega was torture. Of course, all the rest were too, _but..._ Not only are more than half my heats early even now, but those that I _did_ share with other omegas I couldn't actually _share_ with other omegas. People _hate me_. They just... they can't stand me! So much so that they'd avoid me even during the most sexually frantic time of year!”

Derek wondered, “You can't tell me you lot were having conversations during heat. Why would they _care?_ ”

“No, but you know how they say alphas choose by scent and omegas by emotion? Everything is heightened during heat. If an omega doesn't like you they will push you away even while they try to stick anything and everything inside every orifice. Inanimate objects like sex toys and remote controls are more desirable than a person we detest. The first time that happened was a huge eye-opener. People have always called me annoying, but this time? I found myself in a room full of omegas gagging for it, but anyone I went near pushed me away or ran! I was so desperate to be touched, like... even just to be _held,_ you know?”

Stiles took a moment to take a few deep breaths, one hand over his eyes as he tried to calm his anxiety. Derek reached out and took his free hand in his own in support.

“People talk all the time about how leaving an omega to deal with heat alone is cruel, that finding their mate young is best, blah blah blah. If you're not an omega _you don't know._ It's not just lust. It's not just a need to be fucked stupid. It's hormonal in a different way. Emotional. It's this... need for touch. Textures. Warmth. Weight on your body. We'll get off easy as anything, so it's not like we _need_ to be fucked, don't need a partner to participate- that's why rape is still traumatic to us. We need to be _held._ ”

“And I kicked you out right before your heat,” Derek breathed in horror, “Stiles- fuck- I thought... I had _no idea._ I just thought you wanted me for my body and you'd barely acknowledge me till-”

“You had your reasons,” Stiles waved it off, “My stress was from before you. So, yeah. I need a _lot_ of reassurance during sex and our usual banter where we tease each other about your eyebrows and my spazzing out? Can't happen when we're _making_ out.”

“Then it won't,” Derek shrugged.

Stiles smiled at him, warm and hopeful and so full of love that Derek reached out to run his hand along the back of his head to scent mark him. He loved that he could do this now: that Stiles understood it wasn't always a quest to get him in bed or push him away. He enjoyed and needed the casual touch in ways he couldn't even describe. Apparently Stiles knew what that felt like, too. He always had, and Derek hadn't realized.

“I just don't want to lose our banter _outside_ of the bedroom,” Stiles reminded him, “We can do that, right? Still be goofy together but be serious in bed without it getting _frustratingly_ serious?”

“Absolutely,” Derek nodded and then hesitated.

“Derek?” The therapist prompted, reading him in ways Stiles hadn't learned how to do yet. That was the benefit of an Emissary as a therapist. She understood werewolf communication.

“It's just...” Derek huffed, “I feel selfish asking this.”

“You're allowed to be selfish so long as it doesn't hurt others,” She reminded him gently.

Derek let out a soft breath and took Stiles' hand in his, “I'd like us to work on this more. I absolutely respect you need me to tone down the teasing in bed. Eliminate it altogether, I mean. I just don't want to lose that forever. I _love_ seeing you smile, hearing you laugh, watching the wheels turn in your head as you think up a snappy come-back. I want that in bed, too. Not now-” Derek waved his free hand when Stiles started to smell distressed, “-Just... someday. Years from now is fine, okay? We have a lifetime to work out the kinks.”

“Kinks?” Stiles' eyebrows waggled and Derek groaned.

“What the hell am I doing asking for _more of this?”_

“You like it,” Stiles teased, swinging his hand and blushing, “You said you did. No take-backs!”


	6. Chapter 6

Derek came home from work late one night, hoping that Stiles wasn't angry and jealous of the cars like he had been in the past. He hurried into the house and blinked in surprise. Someone was in their room with Stiles, and when Derek scented the air he caught a stranger's scent. Scott and Isaac were gaming in the living room, so Derek wasn't worried that someone had snuck in. Not past two werewolves. He braced himself for meeting another of Stiles' friends and headed upstairs.

Stiles and the new young man were leaning over Stiles' laptop, squinting at the screen and muttering to each other. Stiles didn't notice Derek had come in at first since he was so quiet even when opening a door, but when the man cleared his throat a bit he gave him a brief smile before turning back to Danny. They were at the end of the list, so it wouldn't matter if he heard anything now. He'd just have to wrap it up quickly.

“And the last is Zack,” Stiles read off a paper, “Let's wrap this up so Derek can get some sleep, m'kay?”

Derek, as it happened, was trying to decide if it was worth it to grab his clothes and go change in the bathroom or if he should change here with a stranger in their bedroom. It wasn't like he had to get completely naked. He'd been wearing cover-alls at work, but his shirt always managed to take a hit. He wanted out of it.

“Okay, that's... one hundred twenty-six,” Danny nodded, “You better be good for it, Stiles.”

“Me? Good for it? I'm hurt, Danny. _Crushed_. How could you besmirch my character so?” Stiles demanded. Derek snorted.

“Fifty a person, Stiles. $6,300. Half in advance.”

“Cool. Derek, darling?”

Derek had just sat down to read. Stiles was so distracted he wasn't introducing Derek to his friend, so he was going to wait until he could remind Stiles about their rules. Greeting each other when one returned from an extended leave was rule 34. Or maybe 35. Either way, it was on there to deal with Stiles' ADD and Derek's communication issues. They were supposed to make eye contact, ask how their days had been, and scent each other. Every time. He felt like introductions were also a given.

“Yes, my dear?” Derek asked, a bit of bite in his tone.

“May I have the checkbook, please? Oh, and you have some pit stains, did you know?”

“Cash only, do I look like an idiot to you?” Danny muttered beneath his breath.

“Why does your friend...” Derek stood up and began to change since Stiles was grimacing at his clothes, “-Sorry, what was your name?”

“Danny,” Danny started to stink of desire just as Stiles recalled their rule and jolted to his feet.

“Oh!” Stiles tripped over his chair on his way to Derek, “Hi, honey! Welcome home! How was your day? This is Danny. Danny is doing some research for me. Danny needs $3150 in cash today. No questions, please. It's uh... a surprise!”

Derek narrowed his eyes, but Stiles heart hadn't given away a lie. That didn't mean much since 'surprise' was a pretty generic term. Stiles was grinning like a loon and just... expecting that to be enough. Maybe it should be? Derek wasn't exactly a pro at relationships.

“I require $6300 _total,_ ” Danny spoke a bit louder this time, “Half upfront.”

“What he said,” Stiles pointed at Danny and grinned.

Derek raised an eyebrow, too enraged to even speak at this point. Talking without acknowledging him he was used to. No manners he had seen from Stiles before. He knew now that it was part of his ADD and that he _meant_ to do the right thing and would when prompted. However, now he was outright avoiding telling him something. What the hell was Stiles doing that required _that much money?_ And why was he avoiding telling him?!

“No,” Derek stated firmly and Stiles sputtered in shock.

“But, we're married! It's my money, too!”

Derek growled, jaw clenched, then forced out a second sentence, “We're not arguing in front of this guy.”

“I'll suck your dick?” Stiles offered.

Derek raised his eyebrows and scoffed.

“Mm, good point. I'll definitely do that regardless,” Stiles bit his lip in consideration and then folded his hands to beg, “I'll do anything, Derek, this is _really important!_ Uh... omegas should have... rights and... access to funds? I never had a chance to become rich because of society? Uh...”

Derek folded his arms and raised one eyebrow. Stiles couldn't always read his expression, but it was clear as day at the moment. Derek was not only saying 'no' he was absolutely furious. Stiles wasn't sure what made him so angry: the secret, guessing the secret accurately, or the demand. He'd probably find out after Danny left. Thankfully, Danny was super perceptive and he'd taken one look at Derek and started packing up.

Danny stood up to leave, “You owe me for the time I wasted here.”

“I'll go off birth control!” Stiles spat out, standing up and grabbing Derek's hand to put it over his belly, “Just picture me round with your cubs and then go to the bank!”

Stiles watched as Derek's pupils dilated at the very idea, but then he gave his head a shake, “Bank's closed.”

“I'll have it tomorrow, Danny!” Stiles cheered.

“Sure you will,” Danny snorted.

“I will!” Stiles insisted.

Danny was making a quick retreat. Derek sniffed the air and caught the scent of fear from him, so Derek had scared Stiles' shifty friend off. He couldn't really feel bad about that, because this was weird as hell, and Stiles was being twice as shady. He didn't like this sneaking around, especially if it was so important that Stiles would put off his 'babies after college' schedule in order to get his way. Derek was so _very_ tempted to comply and accept Stiles' negotiation tactics, but he didn't want his mate to miss out on college, and going _after_ kids were born was difficult.

Derek stood up with a sigh, “If whatever this is is so important to you that you'd risk college, then okay. I'll get the money tomorrow. I know I'm supposed to be practicing trusting people, but this is _a lot to ask._ Can you at least acknowledge that, Stiles? That you're really putting me under a lot of strain with this plot of yours?”

“What plot?! There's no plot!” Stiles clearly lied.

Derek's eyes flashed and Stiles backed up a step, knowing this wasn't the kind of wolfing out that was sexy. Instead the fear stink came back, but it was just a taste of what he'd had before. Stiles didn't fear him anymore, not really, especially not now that his best friend was a werewolf as well. Exposure had washed away some of his paranoia, and Stiles couldn't fear someone he loved. Still, Derek reined it in because _any_ fear from Stiles was too much.

Stiles watched as Derek paced the room a moment, breathing slowly and getting himself under control before he faced Stiles again.

“You just lied to me. I have problems with lies, Stiles. Serious problems, _which you know all about._ You can't do that. I respect the fact that you have a life outside of our relationship. I trust you even when you have friends I don't know who are attracted to you- _shut up, yes he is, I can smell it-_ in our room. I understand you have secrets. If you need money, even thousands of dollars, you can ask me and I'll give it to you because I love you, but you _can't lie to me.”_

“I'm sorry,” Stiles' eyes dropped and he actually looked contrite, but Stiles' father had warned him that he was very good at faking apologies.

“We'll talk about this in therapy,” Derek decided.

“It's nothing bad,” Stiles insisted, “Hear my heart? It's not something bad. I swear. It's really important though, and I don't want... It's complicated.”

“I hear you,” Derek sighed, meaning more than his words, “That doesn't make it easier to take. I'm feeling pretty cornered right now.”

Stiles gushed a bit, “Oh, wow, look at you expressing yourself! I know I need to apologize more, but I'm just so fucking proud!”

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes hard, “Thanks, asshole.”

Stiles laughed lightly and sat down on the bed, patting the spot beside him. Derek still hadn't showered though so he moved the chair closer instead and let Stiles take his hands. Stiles gave him a warm smile and met his eyes.

“I'm really sorry. That was... okay, leveling with you, that was a power play. I knew if you were in front of a stranger you wouldn't want to argue, so I was hoping you wouldn't even ask and I could get away with this on the down-low. I should have excused us both and talked it through with you, found a way to tell you I needed you not to ask, not lied. I'll do better next time.”

“Is there going to be a next time? What are you involved with, Stiles? Some sort of drug ring?”

“Wow, I am _definitely_ not that cool,” Stiles laughed, “Giving me too much credit here. Also: cop's son. I mean, not that that makes me squeaky clean-”

“Drug runners are _not cool._ Besides, how many tickets do you have?”

“What? None. What are you talking about?”

“How many would you have if your dad hadn't fixed it?”

“Eleven,” Stiles replied without hesitation, “Why? What's your point?”

Derek laughed lightly, “No point. Okay. I'm going to make myself trust you, just... don't abuse that, Stiles.”

“I won't,” Stiles squeezed his hands, “I promise, nothing I'm doing is going to hurt you. _Ever._ ”

“If I've learned anything from you,” Derek sighed while petting his hair, “It's not to say shit like that.”

Stiles grinned broadly, “It's called foreshadowing.”

“Not when it's that obvious, it isn't,” Derek rolled his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

“Honey, I'm home,” Derek growled out, filling his voice with all the sarcasm it could contain. He was in a shit mood, had had a bad day, and wasn't looking forwards to therapy later. He just wanted to sit in the comfy reading chair in their tiny little room and read until the frustrations of the day fell apart. He'd walked into said room, where there was barely any walking room because the bed, dresser, desk, and chair took up nearly _all_ the available space, and glared around it angrily. Stiles was sitting at the desk chair staring at Derek with an unreadable look on his face. He stank of arousal, but Derek was too angry to acknowledge it.

“You know I'm rich, right?” Derek snapped, “I don't have to work. We don't have to _live like this._ Staying in this tiny ass room... my room at my parent's house was bigger. You and my mom are all buddy-buddy now, why can't we live _there?”_

“Because you needed to start your own pack,” Stiles supplied in a neutral tone.

“I _need_ more space!” Derek kicked the bed and the whole thing shifted hard enough to slam into the dresser. There was a distinctively loud crack and Derek swore angrily and loudly, “FUCK EVERYTHING! FUCK THIS DAY! FUCK THIS ROOM! FUCK THE FACT THAT I HAVE TO TIPTOE AROUND MY OWN MATE TO-”

Stiles pounced.

That was the only word for it. His usually clumsy mate performed what for him was a fete of incredible acrobatic skill, braced one foot against the shifted bed and the other against the desk, and _cleared the bed_ to tackle Derek. Derek was so stunned he actually stumbled backward, hit the closet door, received a doorknob to the kidney, and then found his face smothered by frantic, biting kisses. Derek had handfuls of Stiles' plush ass in an instant because _hell yes_ , frantic sex was on the table! There was _never_ a time he didn't want Stiles, so long as his scent was positive, and lately, his mate had smelled so steamy and ripe that Derek had asked if he were nearing an extra quarterly heat despite his birth control.

“Now. Now,” Stiles ordered, twisting up Derek's shirt as if he could tear it.

Derek stared down at the collar of his shirt like an idiot because his brain had short-circuited and was convinced Stiles actually _could_ rip his clothes off. Stiles was not pleased that Derek was just panting and gaping at the clothes in the way.

“FUCK ME NOW, HALE!”

Derek took the few steps forward between the closet door and the bed and fell forward to pin Stiles beneath him. He took his own idea into mind and sliced Stiles' clothes away and then his own, letting them fall about them in shreds. Stiles let out a keen of need that- _damn him_ \- sounded a hell of a lot like heat. Derek's hand had been reaching for the drawer for the condoms they used since Stiles was apparently _extra_ fertile, even for an omega, but at that sound he abandoned any attempt at action that didn't satisfy his mate.

Derek spat onto his hand, slicked up the head of his cock, and pushed into Stiles using only the natural lubricant he produced to ease the way. Stiles wasn't as wet outside of heat, but his arousal had given Derek enough to work with even if it wasn't as wet as he preferred when taking his mate. Stiles hissed through the burn, something Derek usually took care to avoid, but there was no hesitance or request for pause.

“More. Now. Fucking _fuck,_ Derek!” Stiles gasped, clawing at his ass and driving Derek insane. He loved it when Stiles got so aroused he forgot to be self-conscious. He adored his mate primal, needy, desperate for cock and growling as if he were a werecreature as well. He took him fast and hard, but Stiles needed to move and was trying to flip them over.

Well, who was Derek to deny him?

Derek rolled and Stiles landed on top with a cry of triumph, apparently adorably convinced he'd managed to manhandle Derek into that position. Derek was _not_ going to correct him. Especially not when Stiles began to blow his mind. His mate wasn't bouncing on his cock like the pretty twink he was, he was flying over his cock, slamming down with brutal force, eyes shut and teeth clenched. Derek gripped his hips to keep him on target and began to meet him halfway. Stiles' head whipped back and Derek had a moment of panic, thinking he'd actually hurt him, but Stiles let out a groan of bliss and came across him hard.

Derek's eyes fell shut as Stiles collapsed across him and his knot expanded at the scent of Stiles' release. He got a few more thrusts in and then they were tied together, Derek gasping and shaking through his pleasure as he came over and again into Stiles' quivering hole. He was incoherent with bliss for some time but came crashing back when Stiles' scent abruptly changed.

Their small room was _awful_ when Stiles became distressed. The room absolutely filled up with the stink of anxiety and humiliation and Derek began to rub his back and hush him gently. They were still tied together, as Stiles didn't smell afraid which would have deflated his knot, so Derek sat up with Stiles in his lap and tilted his chin up to get him to meet his eyes.

“What happened? You were gorgeous just now.”

“I don't want to embarrass you,” Stiles grimaced.

Derek frowned. Embarrass... Derek? Werewolves were notorious for not having an ounce of shame in regards to sex.

“What would embarrass me?” Derek shrugged slightly.

“Um... you just got home from work and...” Stiles lifted Derek's hands to show the customary staining that Derek usually had to scrub more than once to remove.

“I washed them at work,” Derek shrugged, “They just need a few more rounds to look clean. It's not like they're filthy. It's just grease.”

“Yeah but...” Stiles gestured to Derek, “I mean, you're a werewolf. You have to know how you smell.”

“I do,” Derek frowned, starting to get defensive, “But it wasn't bothering you a few minutes ago when you jumped me.”

“Yeah, but... isn't that... like... gross?” Stiles' face screwed up in disgust, and Derek thanked his DNA for providing him with a nose that could figure out Stiles better than his mate could figure himself out.

Stiles stank of _shame._

“There's nothing disgusting about me being a little dirty from work, Stiles,” Derek replied, shoving down his instinctive need to be insulted, “There's nothing wrong with you being attracted to me when I come home looking like a mechanic, either. There's an _entire_ porn section for sex in filthy places. I'm game to fuck here while I'm greasy, at the shop, in and on top of cars, and in alleys. I draw the line at public bathrooms.”

“You... it's not just a porn thing?” Stiles' eyes were darting everywhere, “It's really a thing? I'm not, like, weird for wanting you when you're all sweaty and have grease on your face?”

Derek reached up to touch his face, but Stiles caught his hand with a light laugh, “Not this time.”

“But in the past, I came home with grease on my face and that did it for you?” Derek smirked a bit, trying to remind himself that Stiles couldn't be teased about sex. He was making it damned difficult right now!

“Sooooo much,” Stiles groaned, letting his head fall to Derek's shoulder, “I was always told to be _clean_ , you know? Shower. Especially since I'm a male omega. It's a safety thing, too. I could get infections if I don't wash appropriately. That's why my appetite goes down right before heat.”

“Will you be okay?” Derek worried.

“Oh, yeah, I'll be fine. It's more dangerous during heat or close to delivery.”

“Cause I spat on my hand and-”

“Ugh, don't get me going again!” Stiles groaned, “This is so embarrassing.”

“It's _really not_ ,” Derek assured him, “It was hot as hell and I loved you like that. Please don't bury this stuff, Stiles. I want you to be honest with me in _all ways_. You shouldn't be ashamed of the ways you want me. I'm your _mate._ We're going to do a lot weirder stuff as our relationship gets stale than having sex while I'm gross from work.”

Stiles laughed lightly, making Derek shudder as his knot decided that was enough to get him off again. Derek clutched him tightly and shook through his climax. Stiles' body felt like a hot glove wrapped around him, holding him tight and making him see stars. He rocked them, holding him tightly and gripping his hair. When he came back around to sanity again Stiles was smiling at him lovingly, just watching him come.

“Sorry,” Derek laughed, “I tend to check out a bit when you just... gods you feel so good.”

“You do, too,” Stiles blushed, “It's... satisfying. Being filled up by you.”

“It's satisfying filling you,” Derek nuzzled him gently, “This is how I wanted things, Stiles. You and me, together through all the shit in the world-”

“Fucking like savages.”

“As often as possible.”


	8. Chapter 8

Derek was a cuddle monster. He was a big, grouchy, scowl-y, cuddle monster. He was overheating Stiles in the _worst_ way as the weather turned hotter because all he wanted was to cling to Stiles all night long. Stiles was _dying_. He kept kicking off the blankets, but then he couldn't sleep because omegas craved weight. He needed his weighted blanket- which was cooler than Derek- or Derek's weight on top of him. Derek would happily climb on top of him, but Stiles had shoved him away all night because he was _dying._ Seriously, he was going to die of dehydration if Derek kept making him sweat through the blankets.

And he was hard, too. Derek tended to pop a boner by morning, which was something Stiles did as well, but he didn't grind it into Derek when Derek was trying not to sweat to death. Normally Derek's advances were welcome: they were well on their way to a healthy sex life and had made enormous progress in communication in the last month (thank you rich mom who paid their therapy bills). However, Stiles was ready to _die_ in the heat, and Melissa's air conditioning was weak at best.

“Derek,” Stiles groaned, shoving his leg off again when the alpha tried to instinctively comfort him by weighing him down, “Derek, I'm _dying!”_

Derek jolted awake, sputtering and flailing, “I'll get the bag! Scott, start the car! IT'S TIME!”

“What?” Stiles snickered.

Scott opened their bedroom door, blinking blearily and looking confused, “What time... izzit?”

“The... baby?” Derek blinked and rubbed at his face, looking around himself in confusion.

Stiles' heart _broke._ Derek had been dreaming about Stiles being pregnant and Stiles' words had made him shift awake still half in the dream, convinced it was time for Stiles to deliver. Scott saw Stiles' face and they had a moment of silent back and forth while Derek turned red at the realization of what he'd said and stared murder down at the sheet he was sleeping under. Stiles silently told Scott to get lost and his brother left them to themselves.

“You okay?” Stiles asked, putting a gentle hand on his arm.

“No. I'm an asshole. A selfish, entitled asshole.”

Stiles paused, unsure, “Sarcasm?”

“No.”

Stiles sighed, “You're not selfish or entitled for wanting a baby with your omega. You would be if you were _demanding_ it, but you're not. You had a dream, Derek. A pretty predictable one considering I _was_ pregnant at one point and we were both pretty fucked up about it at different points.”

“Why are you comforting me?” Derek threw up one hand in frustration, “How are you not devastated right now?”

Stiles thought for a moment, “I had very immediate and intense therapy when I miscarried. I'm not okay with it- that doesn't just happen- but I'm not devastated anymore. I had time to process, you haven't.”

“It's been over a month,” Derek pointed out, “And we're going to therapy three times a week. _And_ I was in a mental hospital and then in therapy before you even came back. That's pretty immediate and intense.”

“Yeah, but you didn't know I miscarried for a while and our therapy together was non-specific. We've been focused on our relationship, not individual hurts.”

“We talk about trauma.”

“We haven't talked _that_ trauma. You lost a baby, too. You can talk about it. With me, with the doctor, with Scott, maybe with your dad?”

“My dad...” Derek paused and then sniffled a bit, “Yeah, I wanna talk to my dad.”

Stiles hugged him gently and Derek laid back in the bed to pull him close. Stiles recalled his death by heatstroke and groaned, pulling away a bit.

“Besides, I absolutely refuse to be pregnant in a house that has shitty air conditioning.”

“You've overheated again?” Derek smiled softly, “Wait here.”

Derek left for a few minutes and returned with a cold rag, which he ran across Stiles' forehead and cheeks.

“You're going to get the bed all...ooooh, that's nice.” Stiles sighed heavily.

“I'll go to the store and get a window AC tomorrow,” Derek smiled softly, “Can't have you too hot to carry my cubs, now can I?”

Stiles frowned, “You'd trust me to carry them?”

Derek paused, “You sure that therapy worked?”

“Shut up,” Stiles grumbled.

“Stiles, I _know_ you will be an amazing carrier. When you're ready I want to have a baby with you. I trust you. I know you didn't cause the miscarriage.”

Derek continued to pet down his neck and chest until Stiles began to drift off a bit and then left to ditch the rag. When he returned Stiles had shaken himself awake again.

“You really think we're ready? To have a cub? When we're still not okay?”

“Are we not okay?” Derek asked, sitting down beside him on the bed.

“I mean... we're in therapy. We've been great, but not for very long considering our relationship started in the fall of last year.”

“We'll probably be in therapy for a long, long time, Stiles,” Derek told him gently, “We've both got some childhood trauma we're dealing with. There's no time limit on having a cub, no pressure to start soon, but I don't want you to think we have to put it off until the doctor clears us, either. It's whenever we're both ready.”

“When do you think that will be?” Stiles asked, thinking of Derek near tears at the thought of talking to his own carrier about losing a child.

“Not sure,” Derek replied, “My instincts say _right now_ , but if you're putting off college to focus on us, then you should probably put off having a baby, too. I don't want you to feel like you _have to_ , Stiles.”

“But you want to.”

“I do. Do you?”

Stiles thought about that for a while, long after Derek started to snooze beside him. He had _hated_ being pregnant in Eichen, but he had to admit his long-term plans had always included babies. It was the circumstances that had made him so unhappy. He'd always thought he would find the perfect mate, get himself some freedom, go to college, start a career, have a few babies along the way, and retire a happy old man with grandbabies dandled on his knees. That was The 40 Year Plan.

The Plan hadn't worked out. The relationship he had expected to just _fall_ into had been rife with conflict. He was procrastinating on college to fix it. He'd wanted to become a cop or even go to the FBI, and he still maintained that omegas could. However, Stiles didn't just want one baby and a nanny. He wanted _several_ babies, and his recent exposure to life outside of Eichen's little white cubes had taught him that things weren't so crystal clear and easy like he'd thought. Yes, he'd been told he could have a career, even encouraged to do so while having babies, but to actually do it? It felt overwhelming now. So did he have to choose? Or did he need to change his plans?

On top of that confusing and potentially life-altering thought pattern, Stiles just didn't feel _safe_ , but it wasn't their relationship anymore. He felt like any baby he had would be in _danger_ somehow, but...

Everything clicked.

His alpha thought of Kate Whoever as a real and present threat to his pack and family, so _Stiles did as well._ He couldn't get himself in a family way if that family was in danger, which made a lot of problems with his plan arise.

Stiles slipped out of bed, waving Derek off when he grunted awake and headed to the bathroom in his robe. He locked the door and thumbed open his phone to text his contact, who was intentionally saved under a bland name. It took a few minutes for her to reply, but after a long conversation, he felt calmer than he had in weeks. He had a plan. He could have his cake and eat it, too. He just had to get a little messy first.


	9. Chapter 9

“Hey, Scotty!” Stiles chirped, shouting into the back room where Scott was likely seeing patients.

Dr. Deaton came out instead, looking irritated, “Stiles, we have a very sick cat being seen right now. The family is upset. Kindly contain your usual enthusiasm.”

Stiles piped down fast, frowning, and looking chagrined. Losing a pet was awful, and Stiles didn't want to make them feel disrespected. It was a few minutes before Stiles saw them heading back out with their cat cradled in a towel and tears in their eyes. They made an appointment for a week away, thanked Scott for the pain drain, and Deaton told them to call him if they decided it was _time._ Stiles swallowed down the urge to cry with them as the woman holding the cat started to sob silently.

She turned after checking out and noticed Stiles standing there. She gave him a weak smile.

“Oh, hi, where's your pet?”

“Oh, I'm a friend of Scott's,” Stiles stuttered, not wanting to intrude on her grief, “We were going to go out to lunch so... um... pretty cat?”

“Isn't he?” She glanced down at the long-haired creature laying lethargic in her arms, “He has kidney issues. Purebreeds have their disadvantages. He hasn't responded to treatment. He's so _young.”_

She started sniffling again and Stiles leaned forward to look at him closer since her body language seemed open to praise of her cat. He stroked along his fur at his cheek and the cat turned it's head to give him a solemn gaze.

“Look at you,” Stiles smiled softly, “You're strong still, huh boy? Your mom's pretty upset. I bet you want to get better for her, but it's just so rough being sick. I've seen that before. My mom was really sick when I was a kid. She'll be okay.”

The woman choked on another sob, but she wasn't pulling away so Stiles kept petting the cat and received a friendly purr and a nuzzle for his efforts. Stiles stared down at him and just... _willed_ him better. Begged the gods Derek believed in to make this creature _better._

A spark shot up from Stiles' finger and hit the cat's temple, making the whole group jump in surprise.

“Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! Is he okay?!” Stiles stammered.

“It was just a bit of static,” She gave him a small reassuring smile but had pulled back nonetheless.

Deaton, however, had stepped forward quickly with narrowed eyes and stopped the woman from leaving. He hovered over the cat and the woman for a moment and then turned to give Stiles a cautious look. To everyone's shock- except Deaton's- the cat jumped out of her arms and began to weave between her legs and that of her partner.

“Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton stated in that soft Jedi Master voice, “I think you'd better come with me.”


	10. Chapter 10

Derek came home early for a change after a pretty good day, but with some slightly bad news. He walked into their bedroom to see Stiles very quickly hang up his phone and give Derek a guilty look.

“I... what was that?” Derek asked.

“Talking to your mom,” Stiles told him, “We're bonding, too.”

Stiles got up and hurried over so they could do their ritual greetings after one of them returned from an extended absence. They talked while Derek scented Stiles, catching up and telling each other that they missed the other. It was during this time that Derek told Stiles his bad news.

“I have to drive out to Colorado to pick up a car,” He confessed, frowning down at Stiles, “I'm going to be gone for _days_. I don't want to go- and the prick was _supposed_ to deliver it- but I really can't refuse this. My whole business took a hard hit when I was committed and now I'm trying to rebuild it. This guy is a professional racer. He's giving me a shot because of my mom and Peter. It's a huge opportunity.”

Stiles smiled softly, “Are you forgetting we have a whole ass pack here? I'll be _fine._ I have pack support, your family, mine, and I can go to the therapy session you miss alone and work on some of my shit. This isn't bad news, it's amazing! I'm so proud of you, you big sourwolf!”

“You're really okay with this?”

“I'll miss you, but you'll be coming back and- Look, I've got this. Be proud of yourself for a change! You're a business guy, doing what you always wanted to do! We should celebrate!”

Stiles nuzzled Derek's nose and then kissed him slowly. It was quickly becoming more and Derek held him tightly as he deepened the kiss. It was a joy to kiss Stiles. Their tongues glided together, teeth teased at lips, and Stiles had a habit of moaning so softly it was barely audible; just his own pleasure voiced so softly that only Derek could hear it. Derek scratched at the back of his head and Stiles mewled and his legs went weak beneath him.

They undressed slowly, enjoying each other's every touch. Stiles loved to run the pads of his fingers over Derek's late evening stubble and grip his firm chest. Derek's pecks were large and Stiles jokingly called them moobs, but in reality, he was hot for Derek's muscular body.

  
When they finally laid down together Derek took his sweet time making Stiles see heaven and hell. He ate him out slowly, running the flat of his tongue along Stiles' pucker until his nerve endings were on fire and then made him shake as he pointed it and plunged it shallowly into his entrance. Stiles was a quivering, shouting, begging mess by the time Derek stood up and lined himself up with Stiles' entrance. Derek's eyes were soft with love, a soft smile gracing his lips, as his hands entwined with Stiles'. He was standing while Stiles lay spread out on the bed like dessert and the omega felt so _open,_ both emotionally and physically. Derek could gaze down at his entire body in this position, but he chose to lock eyes and keep that contact as he slid slowly into Stiles' body.

“Oh, Stiles,” Derek breathed out, shuddering as he began to move slowly while Stiles' legs wrapped around his waist and his heels dug in.

“Der, I'm... fuck, I'm so fucking hot for you! _”_ Stiles' cock felt sensitized and hot as if a single brush from a breeze would set him off. He was trembling as Derek's movements sped up, taking him so fully and deliberately that Stiles couldn't stop the tears from falling. He called out for Derek over and again, and when those rough fingers wrapped around his cock he came with a short scream before his vision went white with pleasure.

Stiles shook through his bliss and Derek pinned his hands down on the bed and groaned as his knot tied them together and he began his long cycle of slow, prolonged climaxes. Stiles smiled up at him. Derek was always a bit out of it when he was coming. He looked younger, eyes wide with wonder or heavy with satisfaction. His lips were often parted and he would utter soft words or moan and sigh. He would surface occasionally, rearrange them for comfort, and then ascend into elation once more. Stiles loved him like this. He was the fantasy alpha that Stiles dreamed of when he'd played with himself as a teen. He'd never really thought up a personality then, but now he couldn't imagine anyone else in Derek's place. They were nearly ten months into their relationship- counting from their initial claiming- and Stiles was absolutely, madly in love with him.

He only felt a _little_ bad for keeping a big, huge, dangerous secret from him.


	11. Chapter 11

“Deaton wants to _what?”_

“Train me to be an emissary,” Stiles stated, eyes wide, “ _Your_ emissary, apparently. You should have seen him. He dragged me into the back and made me hold stuff for him? I thought he was making me focus so that I didn't freak out while he lectured me, but it turns out he was testing me or something. He'd had medicine on that cat and when I'd petted him I'd 'activated the spell' that he'd laid down and then, like, doubled it because druids are meant to work in groups but he's been solo for a while. So the cat may actually recover, but he said not to get my hopes up and said the same to the cat's parents.”

“Parents?” Derek grimaced.

“Don't judge, some babies are furry and that's okay.”

Derek snorted, “Oh man, you are going to _freak_ the first time our cub transforms.”

Stiles paused, eyes wide with longing, “Oh, shit. I'm going to become one of those Instagram parents.”

“What's Instagram?” Derek asked.

“Shut up, you're so fake. So anyway, he had me hold a plant after the cat left and then checked the leaves after I stood there for, like, _an hour.”_

“Holy shit, how did he tolerate the whining?” Derek asked in mock horror.

“He's a very patient man. I think it's a druid thing.”

“That's sad. Guess you can't be one.”

“Right?” Stiles snorted, chugging milk from the carton and then wincing when Melissa shouted at him from the next room, “How did she even _know?”_

“I'm liking the idea of you being my druid,” Derek gave Stiles a once over. “You'd be so hot in robes.”

“I thought you were tired of constantly seeing me covered from head to toe?” Stiles quipped.

“Costumes are different,” Derek stated, wagging a finger, “That's Kink Law # 36.”

“Damn, 36? What are the other 35?” Stiles threw some curly fries into the oven and then started on a salad, all while giving Derek a wide-eyed glance or two.

“I'll show you someday,” Derek smirked, “If you're _very, very good.”_

Stiles cackled, “Oh my gosh, have you got that backward! Honey, _you_ are the one who has to behave.”

“You think _you're_ the Dom in this relationship?” Derek snorted.

Stiles stopped what he was doing and gave Derek a careful look, “I think we're both too top to only bottom.”

Derek considered that for a moment, squirming a bit, “What _does_ bottoming feel like?”

Stiles grinned widely, “Curious?”

Derek flushed red, “So, no to the Druid thing?”

“Nice try, but we're revisiting that conversation. Frequently and with lots of lube. I'm not sure yet. I feel like if I have this 'spark' he's talking about I should at least explore it. Maybe if I don't it will, like, catch me off guard again. I should get training to avoid causing myself trouble down the line.”

“Good plan.”

“Besides, might come in handy in the FBI!” Stiles chirped.

Derek groaned. It was well known that Derek did _not_ want Stiles in the FBI: not because he didn't think he _could,_ but because he didn't think he _should_. It was a long-term career, one that would take a lifetime, and they both wanted cubs. Stiles was clear on that. He wanted _several_ babies. Derek thought having several babies and a job that carted him all over the country was a bad plan, even if Derek's job kept him local... which it didn't. One or both of them were going to have to make a sacrifice, and Derek was starting to think the sacrifice would be cubs. It felt like they weren't meant to have them, but just that thought left an ache in his chest. He wanted to see Stiles round with child, to see him holding their cub, wanted to raise little Hale-Stilinski's together. He couldn't stop picturing his dad dandling a toddler on his knee, Scott playing Lacrosse with a gaggle of their young ones, the pack's cubs growing up together the way Derek had with his own cousins and siblings. It felt right, and he was beginning to think he couldn't have that.


	12. Chapter 12

Talia looked absolutely devastated when Derek answered the door. She gave him a weak smile, stinking of anxiety and sorrow, and held up two six-packs of Full Moon Brew.

“What's the occasion?” Derek asked, motioning her in. Her scent worried him, but she was forcing on a smile so whatever it was she wasn't inviting discussion.

“Sweet! Beer!” Scott crowed.

“You're underage,” Derek shoved him away.

“Oh, I think we can make an exception considering we're about to have a new packmate,” Talia said softly, giving Derek another forced smile.

“Aunt Gee Gee is having the baby?” Derek asked, perking up in excitement. Feeling a new pack link was something worth celebrating, “So why are you so upset?”

“It's been... hard having you away from the house, but let's not talk about that now. The rest of the pack is having a celebration at our house, your dad is in Nevada helping Gee Gee deliver, and I am here with my son who I have missed _so much_ that I decided to head here to celebrate with your sub-pack. If that's okay?”

“Wow, mom,” Derek rolled his eyes, “You're right. Let's _not_ talk about it now.”

Talia laughed lightly as Derek accepted the beers from her and headed for the living room and the rest of the sub-pack. She seemed relieved that Derek was accepting her presence, so he felt a bit of the guilt lift at including her despite the fact he was annoyed she hadn't just _invited him over._ He would have enjoyed partying with his siblings, Uncle Peter, and the rest. Then again, Derek _always_ went to them, so he could understand why his mother was inserting herself into his home. It probably felt awful not having him there for a new packmate party. Like the human equivalent of your kid having Christmas at someone else's house for the first time.

Stiles looked up from his video game with Isaac and his eyes went wide at the sight of Talia. The stink of anxiety quickly permeated the room, but the rest of the pack was used to it and just looked at Scott. He gave Stiles a careful look and then grinned and asked for a beer. Taking their cue from Scott not to freak out about Stiles' mini freak out, they all started passing them around. That is until they got to Stiles. Talia snatched it from his hand immediately.

“I'm sorry, Stiles, but this stuff makes humans hallucinate. I should have bought you a regular one. I'm so sorry! If you sneak one from Melissa I can cover for you and say I asked for it?”

Stiles groaned so hard he rolled onto his side on the floor, “Melissa doesn't keep beer here! This is a _dry house_ , and Isaac's a brown noser!”

“Dude, we all heard what you and Derek were doing last night. Brown nose is the _last_ thing you should be calling me,” Isaac taunted right back.

Stiles kicked at him with one sock-covered foot, “That wasn't my _nose_ I was using on-”

“Well, isn't this a _lovely story,”_ Talia cut him off, making the room laugh, “Derek, would you like to tell a story, too?”

“Only if I can invent one about the earth swallowing me whole without you having me put away again!” Derek quipped.

The group laughed and Stiles sat up fast, “Oh, okay, you two keep doing that. I feel like I'm learning here. Werewolf communication methods: go!”

Talia and Derek both gave him identical blank stares and then slowly raised one eyebrow. Now the entire room was staring at them uncomfortably, but soon they all started laughing when Stiles let out a dramatic whine.

“You two are the _worst_!” Stiles threw popcorn at Derek, who was taking a few long pulls on his beer. Scott was half done his first and looking tipsy. Apparently wolfsbane infused beer was harsh stuff.

“There you go, now you're catching on,” Derek told him.

Stiles narrowed his eyes and huffed in annoyance, “If you all are getting plastered without me, I'm getting a sugar high. You'll regret it for the next _week.”_

“Somebody stop him!” Scott slurred, spilling some beer on his shirt, “He's gonna... what was he gonna do again?”

“Wow, how much wolfsbane is in that stuff?” Erica asked, picking up a bottle, “I've never drunk before.”

“Maybe just half,” Boyd gave her bottle a narrow glare.

“I'm making up for lost time, don't stifle me,” She scolded.

“You're _underage,”_ Boyd insisted, “What time are you making up for? The lack of rum on your gums when you were teething?”

“Whiskey!” Stiles corrected from the kitchen.

“How do you know...” Derek narrowed, “We are _not_ putting whiskey on our baby's gums!”

“You're pregnant again?!” Talia crowed, staggering to her feet, “Congratulatoriations!”

“Holy shit, mom, now much did you drink?!” Stiles laughed as he stepped into the room to find them all blinking blearily, “Aww... you guys are already sloshed! Now I have to catch up!”

Stiles sat down in Derek's lap and dramatically bit off a length of Twizzler.

“That could be my dick,” Derek told him firmly, eyes bleary.

“You want me to bite your dick in half?”

“I'd let you do anything to me if it meant I got to keep you,” Derek informed him firmly.

“Don't give him ideas, Derek. You're gonna need that to... to give me grandbabies,” Talia scoffed.

“Wow, at this rate you all are going to be out cold in an hour!” Stiles tried to take Derek's beer from him but he pulled it back stubbornly.

“I almost never drink,” Derek scolded him, “I deserve this. I'm gonna be a cousin.”

“You _are_ a cousin.”

“A second cousin.”

“Twice removed?”

Derek frowned deeply at Stiles, “Clothes?”

“What?” Stiles laughed, starting in on his fourth Twizzler at a rapid pace.

“Or tattoos?”

“I'm totally lost here,” Stiles chuckled, “Translation?”

“Do they burn humans?”

“Whoa,” Stiles gave him a shocked look, “Getting a little dark here. Maybe you've had enough?”

“When they give you a tattoo?” Derek frowned, dragging the bottle back and then chugging the rest so Stiles couldn't take it anymore. He belched loudly, “Do they b-burn you when... tattoos?”

“No, ew, why? Do they burn _you?”_

“I always burn for you, baby,” Derek laughed.

Scott and Isaac began repeating him, laughing and making their voices high and squeaky as they mocked him.

“Hey!” Derek shouted at them, “Trying to do a thing here! Mind your alpha!”

“ _Mind your alpha!”_ They cackled, and Erica joined in a beat too late before burping loudly enough to make them all pause and give her an appreciative look.

“It's because-” Boyd stuttered, “Because wolfsbane gets abs-absorbed diff-differently than beer. So we're not drunk. We're _high.”_

Scott and Isaac giggled loudly and Stiles laughed and shook his head, “Yeah, that explains a lot.”

“See,” Boyd started in, leaning forward, “Alcohol is processed in the liver, but that takes a while so meanwhile, you-you-you feel off because you're tech-technically poisoned. But drugs just improbable the brain fucktion.”

“I think you meant impede? And function?” Stiles laughed, “This is awesome. Derek's flirting like a normal person, Scott and Isaac are twelve again, Erica's one of the boys, and Boyd is _talking_. You guys should drink more often. Okay. Gotta run. Sugar is hitting me!”

Stiles took off at a run, bolting up the stairs and back down while laughing hysterically. Derek watched him go while nodding solemnly, “I'm gonna tap that later.”

“Good for you, dear,” Talia patted Derek's arm and then pulled him in for a pack cuddle. They fell asleep on the couch while Erica and Stiles loudly began to sing bar songs.


	13. Chapter 13

Stiles had been a sneaky little shit when he was young, constantly getting out of the house when his mom wasn't looking. She'd had to put a double locking deadbolt on the door to keep him inside. It had come off when he'd gotten a bit older, but the shenanigans hadn't stopped. He'd just gotten better at hiding the consequences.

Then he'd woken up in the middle of the night with the most _awfully_ painful erection. Up until then, he'd just had little stiffies that didn't go anywhere, just led to frustration and eventual exhaustion. This was different. For the first time he woke up with his boxers drenched, both front and back, and the damn thing wouldn't _go away._ His bottom felt... empty. Not having something inside made him clench his legs until they cramped up. He was drenched in sweat but shivering with cold.

Humiliated, he'd fled to the bathroom and run a hot shower. He stayed in there, exhausted from jerking off until it got cold. Then he stood in the cold water as well. Nothing helped. He turned it off and hid in the shower, terrified and embarrassed, shaking with cold, no relief in sight, and tried to stifle his sobs. His father had found him, which had been worse in so many ways. He'd legitimately tried to crawl out the window while his father called the school to tell them Stiles wouldn't be in... ever again.

He'd had to spend his first heat in Eichen while his father heat-proofed his room. The double locks were back since Stiles didn't have a carrier to watch over him. They were on the front and back door _and_ on his room. Bars were added to his window. Fire safety? Pfft, what's that? For the first year he didn't get to go _anywhere_ without his father, but the omega homeschool company nagged his father to socialize Stiles, so Melissa was added to the list of people he was allowed alone with so he at least got more time out of the house, occasional trips with Scott and Melissa to educational places or parks, and someone elses cooking. His life stagnated.

At sixteen Scott was promoted to Stiles' Escort and Stiles actually got to hang out with other teens, be a menace, run around the park, and play pranks. He also got a heavy taste of how behind he was. All his friends were into things he'd never even heard of, but Stiles hadn't been around teenagers socially since _twelve_ without an adult watching over his shoulder. He went from that awkward kid to the _really immature one_ who still liked _that_ video game and played with _action figures_. Even with a bit of leeway, he was still alone, the weird kid, and that was only made worse when Scott started dating.

Derek had graduated from high school right before Stiles was given a bit of freedom, so they missed each other by a few months. Stiles couldn't help but think that if he'd been in high school he would have lured Derek in with his scent, avoiding his seduction by Kate Whoever. Derek would have taken him in a fit of passion when he got close to his heat, the way Laura had with her mate. They'd have been made for each other...

And Stiles wouldn't have had to figure out how to sneak out of a house full of werewolves.


	14. Chapter 14

Derek woke up slowly. He was groggy, cranky, and had a splitting headache. The latter only happened when he got _very_ drunk, which wouldn't have happened if Stiles hadn't been trying to take his drink away. He would have to explain to Stiles that his alpha side got stubborn and contrary when drunk.

Derek reached out for his mate, thinking that being held and fussed over would be a _fantastic_ feeling that morning, but the pillow beside him held no mate to coddle him. In fact, the pillow was _cold._ Derek blinked a few times and forced himself to sit up, pouting into the room, but Stiles wasn't at his computer either. Derek extended his hearing, a painful action at this point, to search for his mate in the rest of the house. Melissa was home, so it was morning or later. Scott and Isaac were making sounds of agony in their room. Erica and Boyd were still asleep so it couldn't be _that_ late. Stiles was....

Where was Stiles?

Derek checked his phone, but there was no text message from him to let him know where he was. He tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail. That was just plain _weird._ Stiles was obsessed with his phone. He never let it out of his sight.

Derek forced himself upright and staggered to the bathroom to piss for a year, then went downstairs to check the whiteboard where they wrote 'household notes'. Stiles should have put down there where he was if he'd forgotten to charge his phone. He was usually good about telling people where he was because he always wanted to know where _they_ all were. He was a nosy guy. No note and no Stiles, yet the jeep was still there! Derek was actually starting to worry. He stepped out onto the back porch and sniffed the air, seeking Stiles by scent. He followed it down to the street with his where it joined...

His mother's scent?

Derek keyed open his phone and called Talia. It went straight to voicemail. Derek turned to head into the house and shook Scott out of bed.

“Tell me not to freak out,” Derek ordered him while the other alpha whimpered in pain.

“Don't freak out.”

“Stiles is gone. He left with my mom. Her phone is off, and Stiles' phone is _here.”_

Scott blinked up at him a few times and then his face lit up, “Oh my gosh! This is so amazing!”

“It... is?” Derek wondered, hoping Scott was right.

“They're probably out, like, getting an ultrasound! I bet he's pregnant again!!”

“He'd have gone with Melissa. She lives with us, works at a hospital, and he's closer to her than my mom,” Derek argued.

“Well... can you think of any other reason Stiles and your mom would take off in secret together?”

“After drugging us on wolfsbane beer?” Derek raised both eyebrows.

Scott's expression faltered, “What? No, they didn't-”

“They totally did. My mom _knows_ my mate is human, but she only brought werewolf beer? Then she leaves with him? She couldn't have been drunk _for real_ , or she wouldn't have driven!”

“Or,” Isaac supplied, “He drove her home because she _was_ too drunk to drive.”  
  
“It's nine in the morning, _he'd be back by now,”_ Derek insisted.

“Not if he drove her car,” Scott pointed out, “He's probably sleeping off a sugar coma on her couch. Lucky us!”

“You really think so?” Derek narrowed his eyes at them.

“You're being totally paranoid,” Isaac stated, “He's definitely fine. Go drink some water and shower. You smell.”

Derek sighed and headed for the bathroom, but when he finished up Stiles still wasn't back. Derek fussed and paced in their room, alternating between worry and anger, until a car pulled up. He hurried downstairs and out the door to see his mother dropping Stiles off. She glanced towards him with an unreadable look and then drove off the second the car door shut. Stiles headed towards him with a wary look on his face.

Stiles had a split bottom lip, a black eye, and a huge scrape across one cheek like he'd been dragged across the cement. Derek could see the skin beneath purpling. He smelled of pain and he looked bone-tired; the kind of exhausted you got from running for your life. Derek knew for what that was like. He'd had Finstock as a coach for four years. To top it off he- or someone- had shaved Stiles' head, and it made him look so young and vulnerable that Derek felt sick.

Stiles watched Derek's countenance as he approached and followed him into the house. For the last few months, Derek's eyes had been softening around the corners, his lips moving into smiles more often, his eyes alive at last. He'd not only been communicating with his expressions in ways Stiles could follow, but he'd also been using his words to make sure his thoughts and feelings were clear. Now he looked like he had the first time they'd met. He had one expression on his face, and it encompassed every negative emotion on the spectrum while still managing to be distant. This cold stare had once chilled Stiles to the bone, even as he recognized it's chiseled beauty. Now Stiles couldn't summon up fear. Not after what he'd seen that night. He felt like he'd aged a decade. At the very least he'd caught up with the alphas and betas who hadn't been in limbo in homeschool for years.

Derek cupped his cheek, tilting Stiles' head to get a better look at his injuries and scenting the air. Stiles smelled washed, and his wounds had clearly been cleaned. His _clothes_ had even been cleaned.

“Tell me who did it,” Derek demanded.

Stiles tried to force on a smile, “Listen, first off, I will _never, ever_ do this again. Second I... uh...”

Derek caught the scent changing a second before his pupils dilated and the color drained from his face. Derek reached for him, but Stiles was already staggering away, arms swinging and screams tearing from his throat. Derek had gotten used to the low-level anxiety that stirred around Stiles. He'd learned it's flavor over the last few months, and his body had adjusted so that he didn't read it as instant rejection from his mate. He'd also figured out when it was serious and when it was just Stiles overthinking something. This was beyond anything he'd ever seen or smelled in Stiles before. This was _blind terror._ Derek was shouting for Scott even as he tried to grab onto Stiles and contain him so he didn't knock the pictures off the walls and injure himself.

“Stiles, what is this?! Is this a panic attack?” Derek pulled Stiles against himself, holding him tightly.

Above them a series of bangs heralded Scott's arrival. He wolfed out with eyes burning red at the sight of Stiles' state.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!” Scott shouted just as Derek shouted, “Someone hurt him!”

Scott refocused and they sandwiched Stiles between him while crouched on the floor, holding him close and talking him down. Derek's own heart was rabbit fast, responding to Stiles' blind terror, but Scott was cool as a cucumber and soon began to soothe Derek as well. Derek let him hold them both until Stiles' breathing slowed down.

Derek helped Stiles to the couch. He looked completely drained. Scott looked at his cuts and scrapes and went to fetch the first aid kit.

“Luckily Deaton taught me how to fix up animals, and according to Derek you are one in bed,” Scott teased.

Stiles gave him a weak smile but Derek was frowning, “I never said-”

“The walls are thin,” Scott snickered, shining a light at Stiles' pupils.

Derek was fuming, but Stiles giggled a bit and he saw the wisdom in his actions.

“Yeah, we noticed,” Derek deadpanned, “I could really use less vivid descriptions about Isaac's 'rosebud'.”

Scott looked horrified and Stiles laughed and shook his head, “Thank you guys, but I really just want to go to sleep. I'm exhausted.”

“Not till I'm done examining you,” Scott told him firmly, channeling his inner Melissa. Scott asked a series of questions and grew more concerned by the minute.

“He needs to go to the hospital,” Scott told Derek, who hadn't seen much change but trusted Scott's judgment, “Pretty sure he's concussed.”

“Yeah, I am,” Stiles nodded, “Also not going.”

“Stiles-” Derek started.

“Read my lips: _not going.”_

“How did-” Scott started to ask about his face, but the scent of fear spiked again.

“Bed. Now.” Derek scooped him up and carried him towards the car.

Stiles always felt drowsy after panic attacks, so Derek's eager doting was more than welcome. He let himself be fussed over by his hunky mate. Derek undressed him, tucked him into bed, and snuggled him gently. Then Derek went downstairs and made him breakfast in bed. He tried not to focus on how scared he was over this sudden development. Instead, he called his mother, but it once again went to voicemail.

_Something strange is going on here._


	15. Chapter 15

Stiles' panic attacks amped up over the next few days, but then slowly began to peter out. He still refused to tell them how he'd gotten bruised up, and when Derek went to see his mother and demand answers she'd been too busy to even _see_ him. Derek was very suddenly being kept at arms length by his mother and it was weird and scary. Finally he made it official so she couldn't ignore him by emailing her an interpack challenge.

_Talia Hale,_

_I, Derek Hale, issue official challenge as your sub-alpha in demand with law JH-12-4A. I accuse you of harming an omega packmate/mate within my sub-pack and demand retribution. Your answer must be submitted by sunset._

_Derek Hale_

_Derek Hale,_

_I, Talia Hale, accept your challenge and respond with acknowledgement of responsibility. I accept your claim for vengeance and request a list of demands at your earliest convenience._

_Talia Hale_

_Talia Hale,_

_Then you are responsible for Stiles being hurt? How did it happen? What did you do?!_

_Derek Hale_

_Derek Hale,_

_Please respond in official terms._

_Talia Hale_

_Talia Hale,_

_I, Derek Hale, claim my right to vengeance and list my demands for retribution, as acknowledged by your acceptance of charges, as such, to be administered within the hour:_

  1. _What_

  2. _The_

  3. _Fuck_

  4. _Did_

  5. _You_

  6. _Do_

  7. _To_

  8. _My_

  9. _Mate_




_Derek Hale_

_Derek Hale_

_I, Talia Hale, in accordance with tradition and pack law UH-354-2B, subsection 5A, refuse to provide a verbal or written list of grievances upon grounds that to do so would incriminate myself. As the recipient of your vengeance I will only acknowledge physical or financial demands._

_Talia Hale_

Derek spent a few minutes fuming in outrage over her refusal to answer a _single fucking question_ and then sent her a ridiculous financial demand. She'd either refuse it again, stating some law he wasn't aware of, or she'd pay out and Derek would get Stiles something nice. Derek was well off, mainly because he'd used pack resources to initially fund his business instead of his inheritance from his great-grandfather, but most of his money was tied up in his business and various investments. Stiles' last demand for money had drained their savings account nearly bare, and it hadn't been the only one. He'd asked for the second half soon after and then another $2000 out of the blue a day ago. No explanation. Derek made good monthly income, but that went to paying rent, Pack Dues, cell phone bills, and investing further in his business. He could always ask his mother for a higher stipend, it was more than allowed since he was starting a business and pack law gave him more resources out of expectation it would yield a return, but he liked doing it on his own.

After a few hours of staring hard at his email and grinding his teeth he got an alert on his phone from his bank.

He was officially a millionaire.


	16. Chapter 16

“Hey Derek?” Stiles poked his head in, waking Derek up from a deep sleep.

“Hm?”

“Hey, honey, you've been asleep for a few hours, what's going on? You never sleep in the middle of the day.”

Derek rolled over and debated telling Stiles. His mate and mother had been keeping secrets, but he didn't want to do that anymore. He wanted to be honest with Stiles. He wanted to be honest with himself, too. He sighed and reached for his phone, sitting up and patting the bed beside him. Stiles sat down, looking worried as he nibbled on his lip. Derek pulled up the news article and handed it to Stiles wordlessly.

“Hmm,” Stiles read it then looked up at him, and Derek was overwhelmed by his scent.

Guilt.

Fear.

Hope.

Resignation.

“How's this make you feel?” Stiles asked, apparently knowing who Kate Argent was to him.

“You know,” Derek stated, not elaborating.

“Who she is? Or was? Yes. I do,” Stiles nodded.

“You and my mother know,” Derek took the phone back and stared down at the picture of Kate Argent's Real Estate photo. It was beside a picture of a man in hunting gear who Derek had never seen before. Gerard Argent, apparently.

“We do, yes,” Stiles nodded, “It's... it's okay to be sad, or something. You had a... well, a very unhealthy and coerced relationship, but a relationship nonetheless, with her. You can mourn her, Derek. I won't be... okay, I will _totally_ be jealous, but I'll get over it and you're allowed.”

“I'm not going to _mourn my rapist_ ,” Derek glared up at him sharply.

“Okay, fair,” Stiles nodded, tucking up his legs, “How _do_ you feel.”

Derek seemed to think about it for a moment, running his hands over his face, “Safe? I think I feel safe?”

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” Derek dropped his hands down, “Like a weight's been lifted. Like I'm finally able to _breathe._ How... how do you feel?”

“Ding-dong the witch is dead,” Stiles stated flatly.

Derek laughed, tone slightly hysterical, “Yeah, that's a good way to put it, but... I meant...”

Derek gestured down at the phone again and Stiles blinked up at him with apparently not a single clue as to what he meant.

“Stiles, you and my mom... you... it says when she was found she'd been dead for days.”

“Mm-hm,” Stiles shrugged.

“It says someone cleaned up the scene. There was blood, but it was too degraded to use.”

“Pity.”

“Yeah, it... it says she... she was _brutally_ killed. Almost unrecognizable, especially after not being discovered for a while.”

“Gross,” Stiles nodded.

“She was in a makeshift _dungeon_.”

“Super terrifying.”

“There were weirdly a bunch of cats in there,” Derek narrowed his eyes, “Like, they'd just been let loose in there. No litter boxes or cat food. Maybe to make the cause of death harder to figure out.”

“Super weird,” Stiles nodded.

“You've been hanging out with Deaton lately,” Derek pointed out, “Scott said you spent the whole time that I was in Colorado at his shop. Said Deaton actually _closed_ for a few days to spend time with you one-on-one.”

“He's a great healer,” Stiles smiled softly, “He's helping me with my panic attacks. He still wants me to be a druid and I'm... considering it. I'm not sure I want to give up on following in my dad's footsteps just yet.”

“You might want to, considering you've _murdered someone.”_

“Ha ha,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “Very funny.”

“You were mysteriously gone a few days ago. You and my mom,” Derek narrowed his eyes, starting to get frustrated with Stiles avoiding the truth.

“Not really mysteriously,” Stiles shrugged, but his panic didn't resurface and that just convinced Derek further, “We were all celebrating together and your mom got _sloshed_ so I drove her home.”

“And came back bruised.”

A bit of panic, but it was quickly squelched, “I'm fine, honey. Just a mistake.”

“What kind of mistake?”

“The kind that causes bruises and you to suddenly have millions.”

“My mom didn't hit you,” Derek stated firmly.

Stiles shrugged, not a yes or no.

“Stiles, _did_ my mom hit you?”

“Derek, I don't want you to fight with your mom over this. Let it go, okay? It's fine. It's all okay.”

“You want me to think she did, but you specifically _didn't say yes or no.”_

Stiles shrugged again.

“Why get us drunk? Why get _her_ drunk?” Derek asked, now convinced that Stiles was behind this all.

“Derek, even drunk _no one_ is ever going to believe that a human snuck out of a house full of werewolves,” Stiles told him, “I drove your mom home, okay? It's not important.”

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth. It was _practiced._ Practiced in case _someone else_ was asking the questions. Derek leaned forward, eyes wide, eager for more information, “Tell me everything.”

Stiles kissed his cheek, “I'm ready to have a baby.”

“Wh-what?” Derek blinked at him in confusion.

“I'm ready to have a baby,” Stiles told him, “I was waiting for you to feel safe, and now you do. So. I'm ready. Want to get started?”

“Don't change the subject!” Derek snapped, despite the fact he'd started to harden in his pants, “Stiles, _what happened?”_

“I told you. I drove your mom home because she was drunk,” Stiles stood up, “ _That_ is true, you can hear it in my heart, and that's all you will tell anyone who _ever_ asks. Never admit to anything: not even if they _know_ you're guilty. If you can weave in a shadow of a doubt than they can never convict you. Now, how about an early dinner since you missed lunch? If we aren't gonna bang I'm gonna nest.”

Stiles skipped away, effectively ending the conversation and Derek fumbled with his phone. He couldn't get his mother on the phone, but he would bet money that the shadiest and most manipulative packmate he had would give him _something._

“Derek, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Peter asked, his voice as smarmy as ever.

“You've killed people before, right?” Derek asked as he stood up and began searching his dresser for clothing. He was going to go shake the truth out of his mother, and he was going to get Peter to help him! He'd probably think it was funny, and if not he'd accept a bribe to do it.

“Dear nephew,” Peter drawled, “Let me tell you something that every good alpha should know. Never admit to anything: not even if they _know_ you're guilty. If you can weave in a shadow of a doubt than they can never convict you.”

With that he promptly hung up, but Derek didn't notice. He was standing in the bedroom staring at his phone in absolute shock.

“I'm in the middle of a mob movie!”


	17. Chapter 17

TIME: 3 Days Ago, Right After Everything Went Wrong

“They're going to know I'm lying,” Stiles told her, ice on his cheek and swollen eye, “Avoidance may be the _only_ way to get one over on werewolves without them hearing a lie, but these are _cops_ we're talking about. Werewolf cops who deal with werewolf packs when werewolves _kill people._ They know these tricks.”

“Of course they do,” Talia nodded, “If it gets to the point where an officer is talking to you, you get a lawyer. Me if I'm not also arrested. My associates if I am. Remember, we don't have to convince the _cops_. We have to convince a _jury._ Never admit to anything: not even if they _know_ you're guilty. If you can weave in a shadow of a doubt than they can never convict you.”

“This is such shit,” Stiles groaned, “There wasn't even supposed to _be_ a risk of anyone finding out! How did this all go _so wrong_?!”

TIME: 3 Days Ago, Right Before It Went S _o Wrong._

Stiles walked up to the gate to the fancy house on the hill and dialed the number on his burner cell phone. A few rings just to make him nervous, and then she answered.

“Hey, sweetie,” Kate's alto timber was lowered to a purr, “I'm buzzing you in now.”

Stiles let out a slow breath and walked up the walkway after the gate rattled open and shut behind him. He knocked hesitantly on the door and gave Kate a shy smile.

“You're sure this is okay, Mrs. Bane?”

“Oh, it's just fine, sweetheart,” Kate purred, rubbing her hands over his shoulders, “You worked _so hard_ on your algebra. You deserve a reward.”

“I really appreciate you tutoring me,” Stiles breathed out, putting a hesitant hand on her hip, “I just... I hope you understand that I'm... I've never done anything like this before. I'm a little nervous. I've never done anything like this before. Most people as gorgeous as you aren't into betas like me.”

“It's okay, honey, shh,” She soothed, sliding a hand up his shirt and touching his bare skin, “Let me see those lupine eyes and I'll show you _my-”_

Stiles didn't hear the rest of her murmured seduction because he cut her off. With a taser. Then shuddered in revulsion. He would have to take _ten showers_ to get her gross touch off of him. He had a really good comparison now for what bad touch was, that was for damn sure!

TIME: The Months Before

Talia Hale was the best lawyer in the tri-county area, a head Alpha werewolf over multiple packs and many other alphas, and a proud mother. In the past year she had come to realize that the order of her title was very backwards. She had put being the sire of her children _last_ for too long. Jethro was blaming himself something fierce as well, but he was the first person someone would suspect due to his military background. He was out of town for the weekend, by his sister-in-law's side as she gave birth since she had no other omega kin. It couldn't be a more perfect alibi, although it had made timing things difficult. They'd had little notice, making Stiles' escape from the house a problem.

Stiles' alibi had been tricky, but it would pass muster so long as they got back before anyone woke up. Even if his packmates were aware that he'd snuck out they wouldn't turn him in for murder. Stiles was Talia's alibi: so drunk she had to be driven home was an unusual state for her, but she was beyond reproach in the political community and if it came out she'd been plastered she would recover. She thought it would be more suspicious if they _all_ had a pretty alibi, and she was certainly ready to go down for this. Especially since Stiles had been taking all the risks so far.

Talia had found Kate Argent by using both legal and illegal search methods, then found out Stiles had done the same and sought her as an online tutor. They'd been having algebra lessons for weeks, but she was always so very careful. Not even a lowered button. Nothing anyone could pin against her while on camera, and she was heavily anti-werewolf in public so Talia couldn't get her alone to slit her throat the way she deserved. Initially Talia had tried to talk Stiles out of his plan, but it was obvious that no one would get into her heavily fortified home without suitable bait and now that she was living on daddy's dime she never came out without a full posse of hateful hunters.

So Stiles had met her in person at a coffee shop. Then done it again. Then again. When she'd started courting him back he'd played the sweet young virgin and she'd started trying to get him alone. He put her off for a while, telling her his parents were keeping tabs on him, but finally their stars aligned and Stiles made the plans to meet her _at her house_. Lots of innuendo in place.

Stiles had wanted to go to the cops with the info and organize a proper sting, but Talia was angry. Raging angry. She'd hurt her baby boy, and the police were too tame for her. She'd be out in a few years with good behavior and be hurting more sweet kids. Talia couldn't allow it. Her inner wolf- no _,_ her instincts as Derek's sire- wouldn't accept a mere arrest. Stiles had jumped on board so fast that she suspected he'd only gone the legal route because she'd found out he was stalking her and didn't want Talia turning him in for murder. He even had a _plan_ already. They had talked it out, made quite a few adjustments, and then agreed on one final note. Stiles would lure her out (alone for once) and Talia would take her life. Stiles had to be around to take care of Derek if Talia got arrested, and Talia's youngest was almost grown while Stiles' life was just beginning. He... hadn't put up a fuss. Talia tried not to feel conflicted about that.

TIME: The Moment It Went _So Wrong,_ Stiles POV

“Kate?” A voice spoke up, and Stiles' head shot up in horror to see an old man leaning heavily on a cane, looking pale and terrified, “What have you done to my daughter?!”

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Stiles whispered, pulling his shirt up over his face, “Did you see my face? _Did you see it?!”_

“N-no!” He shook his head fast, “No, of course not!”

Kate had recovered enough to grab his ankle, although she was still shaking and gasping for breath. It was enough to distract Stiles for those critical few seconds that it took for the 'feeble' man to pull a sword out of his cane and hold it to Stiles' throat. He didn't look weak anymore. He looked like a nightmare, spittle in the corner of his mouth and murder in his eyes.

“ _This_ is the one you were luring in for me?” He growled at Kate.

“H-he's sup-pposed to be-” Kate started up.

“Enough! I'm tired of you keeping all the good ones for yourself!”

“Excuse me?!” Stiles sputtered, “I am Grade A premium-”

The handle of the man's cane was just the right shape to double as brass knuckles and Stiles went down like 140 lbs of pale skin and fragile bone. So much for sarcasm being his best defense.

TIME: The Moment It Went S _o Wrong,_ Talia's POV

Talia watched Stiles walk up to the house from the white van she'd stolen, and listened to him enter. The house was proofed against werewolves so she couldn't hear him once he went inside, not even with a bug. They were using a timer instead, and once it passed Talia leaped down the pole and reached for the gate. According to her research it was electrified on the inner side: enough to knock an alpha werewolf back. To short it she'd have to grab it, hold on, and suffer until it broke down. Then she'd have to heal enough to get to Stiles in time to keep him alive. Electricity slowed a werewolf's healing capability, but nothing would stop her in her quest for vengeance.

Except, perhaps, a line of mountain ash.

TIME: Stiles Is BAMF

Stiles woke up changed to the ceiling of a basement because apparently cliche's weren't as unrealistic as he'd been led to believe by his dad. Stiles let out a bitter laugh and opened his good eye to peer around.

“What's got you laughing?” The old man asked, eyes studying him carefully.

“Just thinking about how my dad- _the Sherriff_ \- is going to find this hilariously redundant.”

“Oh, my. Throwing around titles. And such big words! You must _really_ be scared,” The coot sneered.

“About to piss myself, but then again I have this annoying anxiety disorder, so-”

“Very interesting,” Kate cut him off, materializing out of the shadows like a cartoon villain and making Stiles laugh again, “How old are you really? This student ID is clearly fake.”

“Damn it, I'm getting my money back,” Stiles grumbled.

“You aren't ever going to leave this basement,” The man scoffed at him, yellow teeth making Stiles cringe.

“Wow, so first off, baking soda can help with the tooth discoloration and your breath. Seriously. It's at the dollar store, and you're rich. There's no excuse. Second, how would that even work? Your floor is cement. If you broke it up to bury a body here it would be _so obvious._ So, I'm definitely going to be leaving this basement. Level 3 threat, guys, 4 at best. Do better.”

“How's this for better?” Kate asked, and hit him across the face with a plank of wood.

Stiles didn't black out, but he wished he did. He felt sharp pain and an explosion of lights. It was so disarming that his mind decided there had been a nail in the wood. Hysterics ensued.

“Oh look! I've been impaled!” Stiles screamed, thrashing where he hung and staring at them both in wide-eyed horror. He quoted movies when he was upset. It was a coping mechanism. Don't judge.

“He's deranged,” The old man decided.

“He's brain damaged,” Kate laughed, “I must have knocked something loose!”

“The only thing that's going to be knocked loose is your heads!” Stiles spat at them, “Wait until my alpha gets here! She'll-”

“She won't get here in time,” Gerard stated calmly as he picked up a cattle prod, “This has been modified. It's supposed to stun werewolves, you see. On a human it will completely short out your heart. Sadly, it's only strong enough to work on beta werewolves! Lucky me, I know _just_ how to weaken an alpha werewolf. Kill a packmate and they'll just... wilt.”

“No,” Stiles shook his head and began to struggle, “No, no, no, no, no, Derek won't survive me dying. I can't die.”

The man laughed as he approached, and Kate slipped her hand down her pants with a vicious leer. Stiles was beginning to realize that these people were far worse than he'd ever even imagined. Worse than Danny's research had showed. After all, Gerard was supposed to be _bedridden_. Yet here he was, preying on the boys Kate lured in. About to kill Stiles.

A _real_ monster.

Something to _actually_ fear.

Fear itself.

TIME: For an 80's Movie Flashback Lesson Realization

“ _You reach a point_ ,” _Deaton's voice spoke into Stiles' ear as he balanced on one foot with a plant in each hand like some sort of joke yoga meme, “Where fear becomes so overwhelming that you can no longer feel it. It becomes numb. Cold. A void-”_

“ _I don't think I ever want to get to that point,” Stiles stated flatly._

“ _Stiles, you can listen or you can leave.”_

“ _You say that like I want to **be here**_.”

“ _Then why do you keep coming back?”_

“ _Because you said you'd teach me to deal with my anxiety! You're just making me more anxious!”_

“ _Good. Embrace it.”_

“ _Hug the fear. Got it. What else?”_

_Deaton had the patience of a saint, because he didn't sigh or groan or throw Stiles out on his ear. He approached him, snatched the plant from Stiles' hand, and threw it towards the ground. Stiles didn't know how he got to the ground in time to catch it, but he did. Heart rabbit fast and mind fuming he jolted to his feet._

“ _WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?!”_

“ _It's just a plant, Stiles,” Deaton stated._

“ _Yeah, one you made me name and water and talk to and-”_

“ _Fear for it?”_

_Stiles narrowed his eyes, “This is where you tell me fear isn't a weakness, it's a strength.”_

“ _Don't be ridiculous. Fear is far too complicated for that. Fear is neither good nor bad. It's a defense mechanism. It's a traumatic reaction. It can protect or harm you. Make you strong or frozen in place. It's a means to an end.”_

“ _A way to catch the plant before it hits the floor.”_

“ _A means to an end, for you_ or _for you enemies.”_

TIME: Void Stiles

“Spark!” Stiles shouted, “Come on, sparky!”

Gerard paused and glanced back at Kate, “I almost feel bad for-”

The electricity leaped off of the cattle prod, arched in the air, and jumped to the nearest high point, which happened to be Gerard's head.

Stiles got to watch as his body convulsed, blood spilled out of his ears, mouth, and the corners of his eyes, and the evil vanished from his bloodshot orbs. The man jerkily slumped to the ground and Kate shot to her feet with a horrified scream.

“Daddy, _no!”_

“Ew,” Stiles decided, and _moved._

Except he didn't, because he was tied up. Instead it was the ground around him that moved. Dirt and rocks, the cement walls of the basement, crumbled around him as thick roots shot through the walls and up through the floor. Kate Argent screamed at them, but not in fear. In _rage._ Blind anger, such a cold and vicious woman that she could not even fear for _herself_.

Her lack of fear was her undoing. The roots were short. If she had just run she would have been spared, but instead she ended up with three slim roots wrapped around her throat. She managed to get one of them ripped off, but the others were too thick for a human to tear. Stiles watched with a smug grin on his face as she slowly choked out, face turning red, purple, blue, bulgy and pasty, her tongue lolling out.

Now he just had to figure out how to escape. Maybe the plants would help?

TIME: Talia Is BAMF

Talia had never heard of an alpha pushing through a mountain ash barrier, but she wasn't going to stop trying. Behind that barrier was an electric fence that would burn her flesh clean to the bones. Behind that was a house that was so soundproofed her pack couldn't hear her howl. Within that hellish building was the mate of her eldest son. Derek would _not_ pay for her crimes. Stiles had been ready to go to the police. They would have arrested Kate Argent. She'd have gotten out quickly, sure, but her name would have been slandered. _Talia_ had been the one to put Stiles in _real_ harm, and Talia must get him out.

She pushed and raged and sobbed, picturing her son lying in his bed, too numb over sending Stiles away to even _cry_ anymore. She pictured the horrible drive home from the mental health facility she had dropped him off at and the realization that she might _never_ get him back. He'd been more himself lately, more like the young man he'd been before that _monster_ had gotten her hands on him. Stiles had done that (and a therapist). Stiles had made him feel safe enough to laugh, joke, fall in love again.

She would not let that be taken away from him again!

The building before her suddenly went dark and Talia paused, surprised by the sight and began to rage harder, trying desperately to push her way through the barrier. Damn hunters and their love of torture! They were electrocuting him! He was just a human! They'd kill him!

“Hey, hey, deep breath, mamma, it's okay,” Stiles' voice was so soft that it cut through her panic and Talia paused, hands pressed to the electric blue barrier for a moment before Stiles' reached past the disabled electric fence to scratch the barrier away with a knife, “It's over. Let's go home.”

“It's... over?” She asked.

“Yeah, looks like you won't be sacrificing yourself for me,” Stiles shrugged, “There's evidence of me all through that place.”

Talia's eyes narrowed and she reached for her phone with one hand while pulling Stiles in close with the other, “Not for long. Peter? I know you've got a tracker on my phone. Use it and get here. Fast. Be discrete and come prepared.”

Talia hung up the phone and lifted Stiles' chin, “Okay, honey, follow my finger...”

“Don't waste your time. I'm concussed.”

“You need to go to the hospital.”

“I know the treatments,” Stiles told her, “And Deaton has some medical equipment we can 'use'. I can be a Labradoodle for a bit.”

“I'm loath to bring more people in on this, but-”

“You don't have to. I made a key for myself.”

“I'm not surprised. Creeped out, yes, but not surprised,” Talia replied, “We shouldn't linger here. Let's go inside. We need to find and destroy all her surveilance equipment. Peter will help us remove prints and DNA.”

“We gotta get the cats, first,” Stiles pointed out.

“With the power out they might not be an option,” Talia told him, as Stiles staggered to the van to remove two carriers full of the meanest cats from the shelter. They were scheduled to be put down because they were more likely to remove your eye as look at you, “Someone may show up soon, Stiles. Sooner than we expected.”

“We can't fix it?”

“We'll try,” She replied, “Let's not linger out here.”

Stiles handed her the carrier and they hurried back into the building to compromise a crime scene. Once inside Talia looked around curiously, sniffing the air.

“I can smell some blood here,” She stated, “It's not yours. Where were you...”

Talia gave him a distraught look and gestured to his face.

“The basement. I don't think I was anywhere else, but I was unconscious for a little while. What time is it?”

“Nearly four in the morning,” She worried, “They added that line and I couldn't get to you.”

Stiles could hear the apology that was headed his way, but she bit it back for now. Talia was all business until they were clear. Then she'd probably break down just like Stiles was planning on doing. He was shaking a bit as he led her down to the basement he'd just escaped from.

“Any evidence along here?” He asked.

Talia had paused already to pick up a hair with a pair of tweasers and drop it into a bag. She nodded absently and sniffed along their route, picking up a few more things and then spraying a blood smear on the wall with bleach.

“What should I do?” He asked anxiously, “If I wander around collecting things to make it look like a robbery we'll just widen the field of evidence, and we were never supposed to leave _this much_ behind in the first place.”

“I'm not sure,” Talia told him, “Our plans have changed drastically. Let's consult with Peter when he-”

Talia straightened up as Peter walked down the hall wearing a swim cap and rubber gloves.

“You two are _woefully_ underdressed,” He stated.

“Awwww, I shaved my head for nothing! Derek loves my hair!”

“We've botched this whole thing,” She told him, “I can handle the security tapes, if you can help Stiles destroy the evidence. I just can't do both at once. We're already out of time to get him home before anyone notices. Can you see any other issues? Anything else we've fucked up?”

“The entire night?” He sighed, “Go on, take care of the tapes. I'll scan for listening devices while Stiles and I bleach everything. Don't bother making it look like a robbery. Robbers don't carry _bleach_.”

“Smart ones do,” She shrugged.

“Smart ones don't pick such high difficulty targets. A dozen easy to enter houses would yield as much as this single rich house with a far lower chance at capture and torture,” Peter snarked, “Who breaks into a house that is nearly impenetrable? How did you even _get in?_ I've been trying to kill her off for weeks!”

So saying Peter stomped ahead, running a device along the floor that created a few static sparks and then heading down the steps to the basement. Stiles followed, watching as Peter admired his work with a whistle.

“Where did the plant come from that strangled her?” Peter wondered.

“Somewhere beyond the stone wall,” Stiles gestured towards the root of the tree, “Over there.”

“Obviously,” He nodded, “I meant, _where's the druid?_ We have to clean up all the loose ends, Stiles.”

“Right here, I guess,” Stiles shrugged and staggered a bit. He was tired. _So tired,_ “Deaton's been training me, but he doesn't know I was planning this.”

“Hm. Doubtful, although if I didn't know than perhaps he did not either,” Peter gave him a cautious look, “Are you going to faint?”

“I dunno,” Stiles shrugged again, “Can we move it along? We have an alibi to maintain.”

“Oh, my, so sorry to disrupt your night!” Peter replied with a heavy heap of sarcasm and the Hale Eye Roll.

Stiles gave him a wan smile as the man began removing evidence. He had Stiles work on the visible stuff while he got the less obvious places that only a werewolf- or a crime lab- would be able to find. After an hour, with Stiles' anxiety ebbing and flowing as he intermittently panicked about being caught and tried to block it out, Peter declared the place clean and they headed back out to the front yard where Talia was waiting in the bushes for their return. They slipped out to the van together and Peter whispered directions to Talia for a moment before lopping off in a random direction.

Stiles got in and began to strip while Talia drove. They headed for the lakehouse rather than Talia's home. All their things went into the river on the way there, including the van. Talia carried him the rest of the way to the lakehouse and they quickly showered in the mud room, changing into clean clothes they'd laid out ahead of time.

“Deaton's?” Talia asked.

Stiles checked the time on the wall clock, “No time.”

“Stiles, you're concussed and-”

“And it will be obvious that I'm hurt when I get home. Melissa can coddle me. I'll figure it out. The whole 'nothing happened' line isn't going to work now.”

“I'm so sorry,” Talia spoke softly as she led him outside and scooped him up again, “This all went horribly wrong, Stiles. If we had just gone with _your_ plan to show the cops she was luring in people she thought were minors-”

“Shhh,” Stiles snuggled into her, “#noregrets. We need to get home before everyone wakes up.”

Talia looked towards the rising sun and calculated the distance to her car, to the pack's house, and then to her own home. It was definitely too late to make that deadline, but there was no way that Stiles would go down for this. Talia had let the cats loose in the hopes that the damage they did to the corpses would make it hard to tell if a druid or a werewolf had done the damage. Even if they somehow realized that Stiles had been a part of the Argent's deaths, she would make sure that charges against him were dismissed, even if she had to defend him from death row.

“Night mom,” Stiles sighed, and slipped into slumber in her arms, breaking her heart and reaffirming her desire to protect him. Derek's mate would _not_ be harmed again.


	18. Chapter 18

Derek spent a few minutes having his own little panic attack over what he'd just learned. He'd known Stiles had been behind their deaths, but he'd honestly thought he'd been part of the _planning._ He'd been convinced the money had been so _Danny_ could kill the Argents, and that they'd gotten into a tussle afterwards when Danny wanted more. Derek had been resigning himself to paying that out, perhaps indefinitely, but Stiles seemed calm and sure no one would figure him out. The only way he would be was if the people involved were completely trustworthy: that meant family or pack. That meant Stiles had gotten hurt _committing murder._

While he had no evidence that Stiles had done the deed himself, he had undoubtedly helped. Derek hadn't ever thought of his mate as someone who could kill people. He'd already been manipulated and used by someone who he had thought of as innocent. What if he'd gotten Stiles wrong? What if Derek's 'type' were awful people?

_What if Stiles goes to jail?_

He couldn't live without his mate again. He'd already tried to, and it had been hell. If Stiles turned out to be an abusive monster than Derek would just have to _cope._ He'd have to find a way to deal.

_Thank goodness we haven't had kids._

Derek let out a few slow breaths and then headed downstairs. Stiles was in the kitchen, humming to himself and bopping about the kitchen. The air of anxiety that had been hovering over him was gone. Stiles was no longer afraid of getting caught because the police hadn't found a damn thing, and chances were they wouldn't. Come to think of it, Stiles, Talia, and Derek didn't even have a _motive._ Almost no one knew about Kate Argent, and those that did were either involved in her murder or knew her as Vicky Silver. There was nothing pointing to Stiles at all, no evidence of Derek's abuse. He was going to get away with it.

“I was going to make meatloaf, but I bet you're starving and that takes ages. How about... a nice salad to start with and then some grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup? The creamy kind? Perfect comfort food.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Derek replied, rubbing at his face tiredly.

Derek sat at the breakfast bar and watched as Stiles made him a late lunch/early dinner... or _linner,_ as he so adorkably called it. He bopped about the kitchen, humming to himself and talking to the items he picked up. He scolded the can opener for failing to open, cooed over having Derek's favorite meltable cheese, and laughed when he dropped the bread loaf three times in a row (luckily it was in the bag still). Derek began to smile softly as Stiles flittered around the kitchen like a butterfly, and then frowned as he realized what an idiot he was.

Derek was trying to put everything into perspective. He and Stiles had been together for nearly a year now. The anniversary of when Derek had initially claimed him was right around the corner and Stiles was making plans and asking for gifts every other sentence. His second heat of their relationship was on the horizon as well, just three months after their anniversary. His mate had just announced an urge to have a cub, and that heat would be the prime time to do so.

Meanwhile, Stiles had just _murdered two people._ Except, Stiles hadn't just murdered someone in _cold blood_. He'd killed a pedophile and her werewolf hating dad with his mother and uncle's help. He'd done it, Derek assumed, _to protect him._ Derek stood up to head over to Stiles while he stirred the soup and hummed happily to himself. Stiles seemed so happy now. Relaxed. It suddenly occurred to Derek that he hadn't been the only reason Stiles had killed Kate, not after Stiles' little announcement. Stiles had done it for _them_ , and for their future. To protect their unborn cubs and his pack. Then said he was going to _nest_.

Derek slipped his arms around Stiles and swayed with him as he cooked, breathing in his scent. He was too moved to say something as trite as 'thank you'. He couldn't put what he felt into words, so he put it into holding him as he cooked.

Sure enough, Stiles finished up Derek's food and put it on the table, then scurried off with a cheery wave over his shoulder. Derek abandoned his plate despite his growling stomach, because seeing Stiles nest? That was a thing of fantasies; fantasies he'd been having for a _long_ time now.

Stiles made a b-line for the built in curio cabinets in the living room where Scott- and now the whole pack- kept their video games and consoles. Melissa liked an orderly house, so when she realized that the whole pack were gamers she had taken her plates out of the glass case and let them use it instead of the very small TV stand that only fit one DVD player and _maybe_ a Wii if it were carefully balanced. It was now full of systems in the glass top, extra cables and chargers in the drawer below, and the two big wooden cabinets below housed their video games.

Or... used to. Stiles was yanking them out, placing them in neat piles while humming happily. Derek watched him set them aside and peer into the cabinet curiously.

“You will _not_ fit in there while pregnant,” Derek told him flatly, “I'm not even sure you'll fit in there _now.”_

“No, I'm going to have to build something up around it,” Stiles frowned.

“Nothing too elaborate, I hope,” Derek frowned.

It was customary to indulge omegas while they nested, but Derek and Stiles both knew that Stiles was unlikely to _actually_ sleep there let alone give birth. He'd be dragged off to a hospital, even if he protested, when he started his labor. That made things tricky sometimes as some omegas would try to _hide_ their nests to avoid being removed from them while in labor. Luckily they instinctively stayed close to home for safety or it could become a dicey situation. Still, omegas were so unlikely to experience labor related issues that if their pregnancy were healthy some of the poorer people just... let them deliver in their nests. Stiles' family had been poor, so he might have that assumption in place. Derek had a big family and an even bigger pack. He'd heard horror stories of medical disasters, even among omega _werewolves._ He felt the need to clarify and was glad their therapy had gotten him to the point he could talk to Stiles easily.

“I'd prefer you to deliver at a hospital,” Derek stated.

Stiles crawled back out of the cabinet he'd been dusting the back of and gave Derek a brilliant smile, completely flooring him. He didn't think he'd ever seen Stiles look at him like this: so open and hopeful and full of joy.

“So... we're doing this? I can go off my birth control? I don't want to make any- ACK!”

Stiles had nearly fallen over when Derek had abruptly dropped to the ground and snatched him up to hold him tightly, snuffling into his neck and rubbing his face across Stiles' cheek.

“Whoa!” Stiles laughed, “Loveywolf! Ow! Watch the stubble!”

“You said you'd never do... that again?” Derek asked, recalling Stiles' only direct conversation about the murder. It had happened when he'd first come home before he'd had a massive panic attack. Looking back, Derek thought that Stiles had meant to handle this _much_ differently but been overwhelmed. And Derek hadn't known how to _help._

“Not unless you have any other bogeypeople you need me to deal with?”

“ _No._ You shouldn't have had to deal with the first one!”

“I couldn't ask you to,” Stiles soothed, turning slightly and making himself more comfortable in Derek's arms, “You kept calling yourself _broken,_ Derek. She hurt my mate. I couldn't... I couldn't just _do nothing.”_

“You shouldn't have had to _do that._ I should have handled it myself.”

“No, you shouldn't have,” Stiles stroked his hair gently, “You're not required to be a hero just because you're an alpha. We're a team, Der, and we're staying that way. So... do you wanna build a pillow fort?”

Derek sniffled a bit as he sat back and smiled into Stiles' eyes, “Yeah.”

When Melissa came home at three in the morning she smiled fondly down at where Derek and Stiles were sound asleep on the floor of her living room. They'd used couch cushions to build a 'wall' around the cabinet, draped a blanket over it and secured it in the curio drawer, and used various pillows to make their little nest comfortable as they lay half in/half out of the cupboard. Stiles was snoring loudly, one leg thrown over Derek as he drooled on his shoulder.

“Well, I guess you two are finally relaxing if baby plans are happening,” She whispered when Derek's eye slotted open.

“He's not giving birth in this thing,” Derek grumbled.

“Shh, yes he is,” Stiles whispered.

“I'll get some drop sheets to put under all the cushions and contact the local dry cleaners for afterwards,” Melissa assured him, “A peaceful delivery makes a happy omega.”

“That's an old wives' tale,” Stiles frowned, sitting up a bit, “It does _not_ ward of post-pardum to deliver in your nest.”

“Well, I'm not taking any chances with you. I'll let my boss know your due date when we're closer to the time so I can come right home if I'm away and deliver your little bundle of joy.”

“Really?!” Stiles' eyes lit up.

“No, he's going to a _hospital.”_

“Yeah, I've known him longer than you,” Melissa snorted, “He's definitely not going anywhere he doesn't want to.”

Derek sighed as if much put upon and Stiles smiled up at him lovingly while Melissa headed for the kitchen.

“I left your dinner on the top shelf!”

“You're my favorite son!” She called back.

“Aww, yis, suck it, Scott,” Stiles muttered to himself, then snuggled back down with his mate.

It had taken a _lot_ of pillows to make the edge of the cabinet stop feeling like a pea to the princess, and that meant very little headroom in the cabinet they were half inside of. No regrets. It was cozy and felt like the years he'd done this with Scott as children in this very cabinet. Even Derek seemed to like it, though he tried to hide it. His mate was always trying to look so tough and intimidating. Well. He wouldn't have to do that anymore. He could be vulnerable without being in danger now, and Stiles was sure he'd be _just_ that with their cubs. He'd absolutely melt with their babies in his arms.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N I WILL revisit their heat sex! Promise! It felt like it interrupted the flow of the chapters so I decided to make it a bonus chapter at the end.

TRIGGER WARNING: CHILDBIRTH SCENE Skip if you need to.

He'd only gone into the damn shop for _one hour,_ because he had a very rich, very entitled customer who had paid him a full, omega-sized, buttload of money to make his 'baby' prettier. (It was ugly as sin. Derek actually _wept_ while making the changes to that gorgeous car. Shame on that rich bastard for making him mutilate her.) Stiles, being the little shit he was, had _of course_ decided to go into _real_ labor the second he was in a meeting with one of his most important clients. Derek had had to excuse himself _twice_ because the guy thought he was so important that Derek could finish their meeting even while he was telling the guy that his mate was in labor with their first child!

Finally he'd gotten free, locked the shop door, gotten into the car, and called the Sheriff on his headset.

“Stiles wants me to tell you,” The Sheriff stated, voice cold and angry while Stiles moaned in the background in obvious pain, “That if you don't get here before he delivers he will make you eat the placenta.”

“I'm calling to tell you to call off your... boys,” Derek stated, barely catching himself from calling them something derogatory, “I'm going to be speeding.”

“You think I haven't already told them to get you here fast? You've got an escort waiting on the overpass. Get onto the highway and he'll clear your way.”

“Thanks,” Derek grunted out, then hung up and peeled rubber. The car that pulled out in front of him a few seconds after getting off the ramp turned on it's lights and Derek flew through traffic to get back to Beacon Hills. He hated how far his shop was from the pack house, but Beacon didn't have a big enough garage for rent. Maybe with this money he'd finally build his own.

They pulled up to the house and the officer behind the wheel jumped out to head to the door with Derek. Tanya was an officer who had watched Stiles grow up and she looked as nervous as Derek felt.

“Cutting it close there,” She told him distractedly, “If we missed this-”

“I know! I know!” Derek snapped, yanking the door open.

Stiles' wail of pain met his ears and it was all hands on deck. Melissa had removed most of his fort to give herself room to work and Derek slipped in beside him, laying on his side so he didn't take up too much of the space they both needed to birth their cub. Derek caught his mother's scent right before she knelt down at Stiles' feet and held out a cup of tea for Derek.

“It's going to be a long one,” She told him, while Stiles huffed and puffed beside Derek.

“I regret everything,” Stiles wailed, “We're going to the hospital next time!”

“Is there-?” Derek looked to Melissa in fear, but she was calmly kneeling on a padded mat at Stiles' feet and gently patting his knee.

“Nothing's wrong, he's just not dilating very fast. He hasn't stopped so I don't see a reason to go to hospital, and the baby's heartbeat is strong according to Scott.”

“THIS IS TORTURE!” Stiles screamed.

“Keep on like that and you'll wear yourself out before delivery,” Melissa scolded Stiles, “Lie down, breathe right, and moan softly to ease the tension in your abdominal muscles. Honestly, Stiles.”

Melissa was probably the only woman in the _world_ who could talk sense into Stiles when he was hysterical, and Derek sent up a prayer to the gods above that Stiles only grumbled a little before laying back and trying to relax.

“I'm glad you're here,” Stiles whispered, gripping Derek's hand, “I'm scared.”

Stiles watched a loving, open smile spread across Derek's face and felt his own heart flutter in response. His mate had become such an open and loving person after the Argent's had died and Stiles loved him more every day. He let himself relax while Derek patted his head with a cool cloth and spoke soft words of encouragement. He couldn't focus on what he said, just on his tone. The pain was awful, even with occasional pain drains from the werewolves in the room, but worse was the _terror_. He'd spent his pregnancy as an anxious mess, and only partly because he'd had to be taken off half his meds. He was so afraid of losing this child as well, and in a few moments she'd be out of his belly. Stiles had freaked out the night before, telling Derek he wanted to _keep her inside_ where she was safe despite having spent the entire pregnancy frantic for delivery. Derek had barely stopped himself from laughing while informing Stiles that not only was that impossible, but it would make the kid going to school _very_ difficult and they didn't want truancy on their asses.

“Did we cover all the-” Stiles struggled after another contraction.

“YES!” The entire house shouted back at him from various rooms.

Derek finished the thought, “Yes, all the outlets are covered, Stiles. This will be, undoubtedly, the safest child to ever have existed.”

“Yeah, but what about bullies or-”

“Stiles, I love you,” Derek told him firmly, “But you can't prepare for _every_ eventuality and at some point you're going to have to let her live her life. Preferably outside of your ass.”

“You suck,” Stiles snapped, and Melissa cheered as his water broke.

“Scott! Towels! All of them!”

“Ewww, now I'm in pain _and_ gross!” Stiles sobbed dramatically.

“Faker,” Derek grumbled, “You love the attention.”

“Not _down there!”_ Stiles argued back, but then had to stop to breathe through another contraction, “Holy shit, that one was rough!”

“We're getting serious now,” Melissa nodded, checking his entrance again, “You're at six!”

“Finally! I thought I'd never get past five!”

“Could have fooled me,” Derek grumbled, thinking of how childish he'd been being.

“Shut up Failwolf! You're supposed to be supporting me!” Stiles shrieked, and then abruptly went very, very white.

“Stiles?!” Derek asked, sitting up and slamming his head into the top of the cabinet, “FUCKING NEST!”

“Stiles, baby, take a few breaths,” Melissa insisted, sitting up and giving him a reassuring smile, “Hey, baby. Come on. Scott?”

“His bloodpressure just shot up,” Scott told her softly, the both of them eerily calm, “Still in the safe zone. I think he just worked himself up too much.”

“We're going to the hospital. Now,” Derek stated firmly, watching as Melissa visibly fought to keep her professional demeanor. This boy had been like a son to her and she was obviously concerned.

“It's not at danger levels,” Scott told him, “And he didn't have gestational hypertension so we know his organs are fine. Last ultrasound showed the baby in position to be born. We just need him to calm down. Try to soothe him.”

Derek let out a low rumble, nuzzling into Stiles' hair and stroking his cheek gently while Melissa covered him with a blanket to ward off shock. Stiles' eyes fluttered open and he breathed slowly a few times. Another contraction hit and this time he powered through it while holding Derek's hand hard enough to hurt. Melissa looked proud enough to crow and praised him enthusiastically.

“I'm doing this,” Stiles told Derek, staring into his eyes with such grim determination that he might have been going to war, “I'm giving you a _healthy baby_.”

“Yes, you are,” Derek assured him, voice soft and all joking put aside. This had to be what Stiles had looked like just before strangling Kate Argent with a tree root. He might have anxiety, be prone to theatrics and sarcastic remarks, but he was no one to be trifled with, “You're so strong, Stiles. I'm in awe of you.”

“Yeah? Just wait till I shit myself during delivery,” Stiles snarked back.

“Happened twice already, honey,” Melissa snorted, checking him again, “We're at seven! Labor is speeding up. Scott, change that IV bag. He's sweating more than I like.”

“On it,” Scott agreed, fetching it easily and then pausing, “Uh... I need to get to him, Derek.”

Derek growled and nuzzled Stiles before sliding out of the nest, “I'll be right back.”

“Kay,” Stiles nodded.

  
Scott nuzzled Stiles' hair as he put the IV in and hung it from the knobs of the curio above him. Derek's co-alpha muttered soft words in support and pressed a kiss to Stiles' cheek.

“You're doing so great, buddy,” Scott told him, “Just keep picturing that little girl with the caterpillar eyebrows.”

“Gonna be so sassy,” Stiles panted, “Fuck. Here comes another. _Derek!”_

Scott scooted out and Derek slid back in, holding Stiles gently while breathing in his scent and whispering reassuring words.

“Fuck, I'm in so much pain. Why does this have to hurt so much?!”

“You're doing great,” Melissa soothed, “Scott, how's his blood pressure?”

“It's a little elevated, but less so. Probably just the delivery strain at this point. Proud of you, Stiles!”

“We all are,” Melissa soothed him.

For an hour nothing exciting happened and Stiles even dosed off between contractions. Then breaks stopped happening and Stiles began to look more focused. Melissa told Derek to help Stiles up onto his feet. Stiles was tired, all his sass drained away as he got to his feet and immediately began to waddle around in a circle. Melissa had laid drop sheets for painting everywhere and Derek walked him around on top of them as Stiles began to groan in a whole new way.

“There's so much pressure. I think it's worse than the pain. I feel like I have to _go,_ but it's not that. It's like my organs are heavy.”

“One of them is,” Melissa told him, taking a few much-needed chugs of water, “I'm going to pee quick. Scott, you got this?”

“Yeah, I'm good,” He nodded, grinning broadly.

“We're pushing real soon, Stiles. Derek, you're on IV duty. Scott's going to monitor vitals still, and I'll be catching. Ready to meet your baby, Stiles?”

“Yeah,” Stiles replied with little enthusiasm.

Melissa vanished into the bathroom for a few minutes, had Boyd help her scrub up in the sink, and then returned with a big grin on he face. She had Stiles squat and studied his entrance, nodding her head and making positive sounds.

“I'm hungry,” Stiles told her.

“No food till after, honey. You'll just sick it up. Trust me.”

“Still hungry.”

“Boyd's ordering curly fries,” Scott assured him, “And chicken wings.”

“Sweet.”

“He's on liquids for at least a few hours!” She scolded Scott.

Scott shrugged and grinned.

“No power in the verse can stop me from eating those curly fries,” Stiles told her defiantly, then squatted down and began to push without prompting.

Melissa didn't check again, she just dropped down behind Stiles to assist in his birth. Scott gripped Stiles' left arm to steady him and Derek did the same with his right while holding his IV bag. Stiles' face turned purple with exertion as he leaned on Derek in exhaustion, but Melissa told him to keep pushing.

“No stopping now, Stiles, let's go. You got this! Take a breath, push. Take a breath, push.”

“Push you!” Stiles choked out, but adjusted his feet, squatted down more fully, and roared through a push that had Melissa crowing.

“I've got her head! Gimme another!”

Stiles took a few short breaths and bore down again while Derek felt tears start up in the corners of his eyes. Talia had stepped forward at the ready to help him drain Stiles' pain so Derek could focus on meeting his daughter. It was necessary to feel it during actual delivery, but afterwards Stiles deserved a break and she and Scott would do that while Melissa and Derek cleaned up the baby.

Finally, she was in Melissa's arms and Stiles swayed at the sound of her cries but obediently pushed the placenta out before Scott and Talia all but carried him back to his nest to rest. Derek's eyes were glued on the goopy, purple baby in Melissa's arms. She was screaming her fury to the world and Derek was a shaking mess.

“Is she supposed to be that color?”

“Yes, it's normal,” She smiled up at him, “Oh my gosh, look at her squirm! All that fire! Get down here and cut her cord, Dad!”

Melissa sniffled a bit, but Derek was too busy memorizing every inch of her to cry. He slit the cord with a sharp claw and Melissa quickly took her to the kitchen counter where a sterilized area was set up to measure her and take her prints. Derek followed in a daze even as he zoned in on Stiles with his powerful hearing. He was asking for water and Scott was telling him to just rest while Talia whispered praises. Erica peeked in, eyes wide with worry. She was round with child herself, as was Isaac, and was supposed to be on bed rest.

“Get upstairs,” Derek scolded her lightly.

“I want to see the baby,” She pleaded.

“Give us a few. Promise you'll get to snuggle her. She's still covered in butt goo right now.”

Melissa snorted as she gave the baby her first, utilitarian, bath, swaddled her, and handed her over to Derek who promptly burst into tears.

“Stiles is gonna be so mad that she doesn't have my eyebrows,” He sniffled while grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“He's going to love the hell out of her,” Melissa took him by the shoulders and turned him, “Now go get him to feed her before she ruptures your eardrum. I'll call Deaton and let him know that his protege will be back to his studies soon. He'll want to know about the next potential druid after Stiles.”

“She'll be whatever she wants to be,” Derek stated firmly, “She doesn't have to follow in Stiles' footsteps.”

The rest of the pack was in the living room keeping a careful distance. Isaac was closest to Stiles' nest, hand on his distended belly, and eyes wide. He saw Derek and cooed, misty eyed as they all were. Derek puffed up a bit as he walked past his pack with his newborn cub in his arms.

“Proud papa, coming thru!” Scott teased.

Derek knelt down and leaned forward to pass her to Stiles. He was trembling a bit, skin mottled and sweaty, and looking absolutely radiant. He laugh-sobbed as he took her into his arms and pressed her to his chest to nurse. She fought it a bit, angry at having been denied, but Talia easily showed him how to get her to latch on. When she was nursing Stiles sniffled hard and gave Derek a complicated glance full of love, fear, hope, and exhaustion. Derek wiped at his own tears with the back of his hand and then reached out to wipe away Stiles' with one rough thumb.

“Begins with tears and ends with it,” Stiles whispered through a roughened throat, “But at least these are the good kind.”

“This isn't the end,” Derek shook his head, “This is a brand new beginning, and it's going to be _amazing.”_


	20. Chapter 20

Sex. Sex. Sex.

Stiles had dropped his birth control well in advance of his heat, but they'd continued to use condoms because they didn't want his heat to skip if he were too far along in pregnancy before January. Yeah, sure, it was just sex, and he'd have a heat again a few months after giving birth, but it felt like they'd skipped an integral part of their relationship by being together for over a year but not having had a heat. Isaac and Scott, Erica and Vernon, they were all about to have their first heat together having found each other shortly after the last season. Stiles, Isaac, and Erica had been on suppressants, so their heats had come yearly instead of quarterly since completely stopping heats was medically dangerous. They'd all stopped them after the last quarter along with their birth control so they could conceive more easily, although it wasn't necessary to stop both medications. All three alphas were feeling the pull to build pack, and there was no reason to delay breeding now that they had an established home.

Melissa was excited for the pitter-patter of little feet... and had moved her room into the shed so she could sleep through the crying. Derek and Boyd had turned it into a little suite for her so that she could sleep peacefully since her shifts were so varied. It was just a single room, freshly insulated, with an AC installed in the wall, but it was enough to get by.

Stiles approached his heat with understandable trepidation being that they were usually _awful_ for him. He began to stink of fear again as his appetite changed and his texture cravings started. Derek and Stiles had spent countless hours talking to the therapist and with Derek prepped this time he handled Stiles' fear without any personal trepidation. When Stiles smelled panicked, Derek held him. When he reeked of anxiety he pinned him down for a bit so that Derek's weight could reassure him. They broke out the weighted blanket that Stiles had put aside once the AC had been installed so he had extra comfort at night or when Derek was at work. Stiles got the fluffiest robes, softest blankets, and Derek had him pick out a used car with the kind of metal he preferred- the older models with solid hoods- and put it in Melissa's garage with a heater nearby so he could lounge naked on the hood. The pack avoided it like the plague, especially when his sex drive amped up. He spent his entire day in there now, hot and bothered and panting for Derek until he got home. With the constant reassurance, Stiles could put his fear aside once need overwhelmed it and they had the _hottest_ sex on the hood of that car. Quick sex, unfortunately. Stiles wasn't craving a knot just yet. He wanted relief and then to be left alone to wallow on various surfaces. Derek planned to restore the car so that it could be Stiles' filthy little sex toy for the rest of his life. He planned to get him off the hood and into the back seat once his heat passed, but at the moment the rough texture bothered him.

Derek himself was spending a lot of time talking to Scott. Stiles' best friend had become _his_ best friend, and it was vastly different than the the friendship he'd had with his sisters and brother. For one, Scott didn't beat the shit out of him on a daily basis just for existing. For another, Scott _listened._ He was actually a pretty amazing listener, and Derek found himself following him, trusting his judgement, and depending on his consistency as Stiles' mental health devolved as his heat approached.

“Do you think he'll ever _enjoy_ it?” Derek worried one evening as they sat on the porch swing.

“I mean, I don't know what it's like for an omega,” Scott shifted to hold Derek's hand and give it a comforting squeeze, “But Isaac has told me a bit about how it feels and it honestly sounds awful without a mate. He's nervous, because of what's happened to him in the past, but he's also excited because we'll be together this time.”

“Stiles just doesn't see it that way,” Derek groaned, leaning heavily on Scott's sturdy shoulder, “Isaac doesn't have a _Panic Disorder_ along with his PTSD.”

“True,” Scott nodded and sat up, dislodging them and stopping the swing, “But he _does_ have me, and Stiles has you. And a therapist that you guys are _seriously_ overworking.”

“She has two kids in college. She's fine with it,” Derek stated in a dry tone.

“Seriously, Derek. You two will be fine. When the time comes his instincts will overwhelm the panic-”

“That's what _everyone_ tells us!”

“It's true though,” Scott insisted, giving his shoulder a shake, “It's not just a platitude, and we're not talking about a _lack of control._ Instincts are there for a reason. Instincts are what led you to choose _Stiles_ , who you love beyond reason. No, seriously. It's unreasonable. He's an annoying little shit.”

“He's _my_ annoying little shit,” Derek huffed, “And he's brilliant, sweet, fun, and-”

“I know,” Scott laughed, “But nobody ever sees that except for you and me. He's lucky to have you. You just have to keep reassuring him that you aren't going anywhere.”

Derek let out a long sigh. If they'd gone the route of therapy and meds the _first time,_ instead of wallowing in angst and misery they wouldn't be in this mess. They'd have had Stiles' _first_ heat together, he'd be over his fears instead of having them validated, and Derek would be on his way to breeding him without worry on his shoulder.

“You want my advice?”

Scott smiled softly while Derek glared at him. It was _obvious_ that he wanted advice, damn it! “Well?”

“Act like there's nothing to be afraid of, like this is business as usual, like it's not even your first heat. It will piss him off at first, because he _wants_ to make a big deal of this, but eventually it will calm him down. Just routine. Nothing more.”

Derek frowned, “That... might work.”

“It's what his dad does every time Stiles freaks about something, and what I did through school. Every test Stiles wanted to have a heart attack and I just kept pretending there wasn't one! He'd be so focused on getting me to panic study that he'd forget to freak out himself.”

“You sound like a real dick of a friend,” Derek snorted, but Scott just shrugged and smiled.

Derek ruffled his hair, nearly knocking him over, and went inside to pretend everything was business as usual.

Stiles was a _mess_ and he knew it, the problem was he couldn't _stop_ it. Every coping skill that the shrink had given him was backfiring. His anxiety had driven Derek off once, and if he kept on going it was going to chase him off for good. Stiles couldn't go through another heat alone. He'd actually gone so far as to ask Boyd and Erica if he could sneak into their bed if Derek abandoned him. Boyd had made a disgusted face and told him no, but that was to be expected. No one could tolerate Stiles. _No one_.

Except Derek.

Derek who one day just walked into the house, took a look at Stiles having a panic attack on the couch- as per normal- and smiled softly at him.

“Derek, thank fuck, I'm just... I know you said you're staying, but-”

“You want some chips?”

“Chips?!” Stiles squeaked while Erica rubbed his shoulders, trying to calm him down.

“Yeah, I'm craving chips. Sour cream and onion or cheddar?”

Stiles gave Derek the look of horror his obvious descent into madness required, “Cheddar?”

“Okay,” Derek turned away and returned with the chips, holding out the tube with a grin, “Want to watch a movie and cuddle on the couch?”

“Umm?” Stiles gave Erica a frustrated look, but she was grinning and backing away.

“Ohhh, a date, huh?” She grinned frantically as she tried to slip away.

“Traitor!” Stiles called after her.

“A date's a great idea!” Derek grinned broadly, “In inside date, so you don't feel pressured to dress up.”

“My ass is producing slick faster than pads can absorb it,” Stiles stated flatly, irritation suppressing his panic, “If I were to go out to dinner with you now we'd be kicked out of any restaurant. Even McDonald's won't have me. So yeah, we'd have to have an in-date.”

“Their loss,” Derek winked, “I for one am looking forward to snuggling the hottest omega in town.”

“LIES!” Erica shrieked from upstairs. Derek ignored her and Stiles couldn't hear that far.

“Why are you schmoozing me?” Stiles asked, his eyes narrowed in fury.

“I am offended by your accusation,” Derek told him with a chuckle, “Pepperoni pizza?”

“The texture bothers me,” Stiles frowned, “Besides, I'm off cheese. And meat. I'm down to simple carbs until a few days before my heat. You _know_ that.”

“Sorry, forgot,” Derek replied, “Anything you need to make this easier? At least until _I_ can make it easier?”

Derek gave him his flirtiest smile and Stiles' felt his body respond to that glance and his needs became more intense than his fear for the first time in quite a while. Stiles pushed his robe aside.

“Yeah, get sucking.”

Derek laughed lightly and headed over to drop slowly to his knees. He met Stiles' eyes and kept contact while slowly licking the tip of his hard cock. Stiles let out a shuddering breath as Derek swallowed him slowly down and then slid back up to pop off.

“Your wish is my command,” Derek purred.

Stiles came all over his chin before Derek could drop back down again.

XXX

Scott's methods worked. Stiles still had spikes of fear, of course. It wasn't a _miracle_ cure, but it was an extensively helpful aid in dealing with his mate's chemical imbalance. Derek distracted Stiles with textures, comfort, flirting, and hand jobs every time Stiles started to freak out. The near constant attention meant that Stiles didn't have time to freak out so long as Derek were home. Derek returned from a day at work to the scent of unvarnished fear most days, but it soon eased up and the terrorized pack would drift back inside once the air cleared.

Stiles became more relaxed as time passed, mostly because his desire was more prevalent than his anxiety as he got closer to his heat. Eventually they reached a point where Stiles needed Derek to skip work because it was going to go off at any moment. He didn't actually _tell_ Derek that his heat was imminent. He just stood in front of the door and stared him down like he'd end him if he left for work. Derek backed away slowly and called the employee he'd hired a few months back so that he wasn't the only schmuck running the place. Heat Week meant nearly the entire country shut down, but Stiles' came a week early so Derek had to make extra arrangements. That meant telling his employee it was time to fly solo.

Stiles didn't talk, and that alone was unnerving. Derek liked their banter, which had eventually worked it's way into their sex life without being a deterrent. Stiles didn't chatter to fill the silence the way he usually did, he just sat down on their bed, wrapped his arms around his knees, and stared at Derek. He was barely blinking. It was _weird._

“You okay?” Derek asked, sniffing the air.

He didn't smell afraid. He didn't smell _anything_ emotional. He smelled aroused. He smelled like raw, unfiltered lust. It was driving Derek insane, but Stiles' body language wasn't receptive. He was waiting for the first wave, his mind all but shut down. Derek felt a bit uneasy at first. He felt like he should _do_ something, but he'd always been told not to pressure omegas near heat for sex. They could end up needlessly sore. Just _wait_ and he'd get his rocks off plenty.

After a while of watching movies in which Stiles was mostly spaced out, the scent in the room took a sharp turn and Derek's brain began to fizzle out. It was like the moment that he'd breathed in Stiles' scent packet, but instead of frantic to hide his unclaimed mate he was desperate to _breed_ his claimed one. Stiles wasn't keening this time like he'd been when he'd been close to heat and Derek had left him alone. Instead he was hot and panting, arching his back, and squirming his wet ass against their bed.

Derek turned onto his side to drag him over, pulling him against himself and sliding his hand beneath the robe. He stroked along one full butt cheek while sloppily kissing his panting mate. Their tongues slid together as his finger slipped into a sopping wet, gaping hole just ready to be filled. Derek groaned and Stiles whined a bit, needy and ready for him. His scent was so ripe it burned through Derek's nostrils and shut out everything but _Stiles_ and _mate_ and _knot._

Derek had Stiles on his belly and the front of his sleep pants shredded in an instant. Stiles was shoving the robe off of his arms, panting Derek's name while the alpha slid into him with ease. Stiles wanted nothing touching him except Derek. He needed to be taken and taken hard, but he also needed to be _possessed_. He had his claim, but now he needed to be filled with Derek until he burst. He was desperate for that knot to tie them together and the fullness that only came with Derek's come flooding his insides until his stomach swelled. Too often they'd worn protection when Stiles wanted- _needed_ \- to have Derek's essence inside of him, dripping out for hours after his mate had left him open and sensitive. Now he would have his gorgeous mate and, well, eat him up too! He'd finally get to feel that burn inside his body, that ache that felt never ending throughout heat, reach complete satisfaction.

Derek's knot engaged almost instantly, as it was meant to do during heat. No time for fun fucking and teasing. Stiles was meant to take his knot and seed and be grateful for it, and Derek couldn't slow that if he wanted to. He tied them together and his eyes rolled back as wave after wave of orgasms washed over him, pushing out seed from testicles that had been growing ever larger for the last week. They were heavy and full for Stiles, ready to fill him with his cubs, and Derek couldn't halt the embarrassing flow of words from falling from his lips as Stiles let out broken cries of pleasure beneath him.

_Stiles!_

_My love!_

_Gonna breed you so good!_

_Yes, Derek! Please!_

_Need you!_

_Ah, it burns! Please! More!_

Stiles' lost any and all sense of time and place as Derek's fist closed around his throbbing prick and brought him sweet, sweet relief. Stiles screamed out his first climax and rolled into another. His ass was full, his p-spot leaned on and being milked by Derek's knot, and his mate's calloused hands roamed his body like the steady beat of his heart. Stiles had never felt so safe, so cherished, as he did in the moment that Derek bent over his body and blunt teeth bit into the back of his neck. They were tied together from head to toe, ankles twined together, bodies linked and frantic for touch. Derek gave him pleasure and filled him full, making Stiles' body feel like flame and fire danced between them, sizzling but never consuming. They fed each other the way the rain fed the earth, saturating the dirt and giving it life. Stiles could _picture_ the egg in his body swelling with Derek's seed the way his belly filled with his cum. Protruding and giving Derek another part to hungrily stroke.

Every inch of Derek's body and mind was focused on Stiles. His need to touch him, taste him, breathe in his scent, hear his cries, and watch him squirm on his cock. He needed more. _More_! Nothing was enough and yet he was constantly being gorged on his mate. For hours everything wound down to Stiles' tight hole around his knot and keeping his mate from feeling anything but bliss. Over and again, adjusting position as needed to avoid pains from being in the same position, soothing his mate's throat with water before throwing him down again, they couldn't get enough of each other. Yet it wasn't just raw sex. Stiles for all his hunger cooed Derek's name, stroked his hair, stared love into his eyes. Derek might have been rabid with lust, but he couldn't stop himself from kissing each mole that strayed into his path with the reverence kept only for Stiles' perfect, slender body with _just_ enough definition to make Derek think _that's my man._

When Derek's body began to fail him towards the end, when he thought he just couldn't _come_ anymore, he lay over Stiles as his mate lay limp and exhausted on his back in their bed, and growled in frustration that he couldn't finish. His mate, his _brilliant_ , wonderful beloved, knew exactly what to do. Derek had never been touched _there_ before, but the moment Stiles' slick finger touched his hole he knew he needed it. He arched into his touch and Stiles' finger slid into Derek's body. An alpha's prostate was larger than an omegas, made to aid in the production of truly epic amounts of semen. He didn't need a knot to make Derek see stars. His sinfully long fingers were more than enough, and Derek was plumping up, tied to him, _release!_ Such bliss, such blinding light, as he filled Stiles' greedy hole again!

Absolute exhaustion. Derek could no more say his mate's name let alone get it up again. Stiles' hole had stopped producing massive amounts of slick, his pucker swollen from overuse rather than plump with desire. They lay a tangle of limbs, sore but replete. Stiles' foot was hanging off the bed and Derek's head had dented the wall above their bed at some point. The blankets were torn and stained and the room smelled of sex and sweat.

“Holy shit,” Derek wheezed, voice rough from screaming and howling, “You are _never_ going through that alone again.”

“Was it awful?” Stiles winced.

Derek tried to lift his head to make better eye contact, to reassure his mate, but he was weak as a kitten. No wonder the urge to barricade had happened when he'd been in his mother's house! He couldn't prevent another from mounting Stiles right now if his life depended on it! He was lucky to be in a home with a pack that he trusted, with a mate who was all his.

“Stiles,” Derek croaked out, finger twitching where it rested on his come crusted belly, “That was...”

“Mm?” Stiles tried, cracking an eye open and giving Derek a bleary look.

“Everything,” Derek decided on, and promptly fainted away.


	21. BONUS

THIS ALMOST made it into the final cut, but I was getting damn tired of drama so I cut it. Still feels a lot like shit Stiles would do tho, so I decided to share it with you. There's some gaps because I was cutting out parts to add to the final product, but it should be an interesting read nonetheless.

“What are you _doing?_ ” Derek blinked blearily at Stiles.

“Stubbing my toe on the kitchen table leg,” Stiles hissed, rubbing at his foot.

“Lights usually help humans see at night,” Derek laughed, turning it on and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “Or... wearing your shoes instead of carrying them. Are you sneaking out of the house?”

“This isn't my fault,” Stiles insisted angrily, “It's _society's_ fault.”

Derek studied him in silence for a moment and then shook his head, “No, I'm completely lost. You're going to have to spell that ADD trail out for me. Maybe draw a map. There are probably markers around here somewhere...”

“Derek, please, go upstairs. Go to bed. This is that thing that we can't talk about without me lying. I don't want to lie to you. You asked me not to,” Stiles pleaded.

Derek studied his mate, beautiful and smart and usually silly. He was completely serious now. Derek's nose was telling him all sorts of confusing things. A medley of anger, self-righteousness, excitement, pride, and a fierce protectiveness that took Derek's breath away. It made him think of cubs and a future with Stiles, but he couldn't have that if Stiles got himself killed or arrested on whatever mad adventure he was on.

He wrapped his arms around himself and did that asserting thing that the therapist kept telling him to do in order to take control of his life and halt his agonizing depression.

“No. Stiles, I'm sorry, but no. Whatever this is, it's serious and you need to tell me what you're doing. I can't... I can't lose you again.”

Stiles' eyes went soft and he stepped forward to caress Derek's cheek gently, “I'm glad you said that, Derek.”

“You are?” Derek breathed out, feeling the tension drain out of his shoulders.

“Yeah, it makes me a lot more confident about doing this,” Stiles leaned forward for a kiss.

Derek's heart fluttered. Sometimes Stiles really did say and do the most amazing, stomach swooping, romantic things. That sappy line and his bedroom eyes were reassuring. He held out his keys for Derek to take and the alpha puffed up a bit even as he stepped closer for that kiss. He adored their level height. Stiles was always in kissing reach with just a step or two-

Derek woke up on the kitchen floor with Sheriff Stilinski standing over him, fist raised to punch him. The scent in the air was frantic, afraid, and... _wolfsbane?_

“What happened?” Noah demanded, “Where's Stiles? _Who took him?”_

Derek pushed himself into a sitting position despite the room swimming around him, scenting the air frantically. He had to find his mate... had to...

There was a packet on the floor with purple powder inside. He picked it up carefully, his mind flashing to months ago when he'd opened a packet with _Stilinski_ on the label and his future inside. This time it was poison inside, but Stilinski was still on the outside. Scent rather than his name, of course.

“Derek?” Melissa prompted, “Can you find anything? Scott said he didn't recognize the scent.”

“Scott lied. He knows this scent. No one took him,” Derek leaned against the doorjam between kitchen and living room, “He ran away.”

“What?” Noah shook his head, “No. No, he wouldn't. Where would he even _go?_ If he wanted you gone he just had to say so! I'd have hauled your ass out like it was made of feathers! He could have just come _home!_ ”

Derek didn't argue that. He fully believed Noah could do it, human or not.

Derek blinked back tears, but they were from wolfsbane rather than sorrow. He was past crying. He just felt numb.

“He said something about it being society's fault that he had to sneak out, then threw wolfsbane in my face and ran. From us _both._ He's got my claim on him to keep him safe, according to Eichen he's accounted for, he'd managed to cut the umbilical cord from you, and I handed him nearly $7,000 last week. He's in the wind.”

“No,” Noah stood up, “That's not Stiles. He wouldn't do that. Look, I know you've got some shit self esteem, but that brat of mine _loves you._ Get up off the floor. If he left under his own power, he'll come back under it. _Up_ Derek. Up off the floor.”

Derek swayed a bit when he got to his feet, but he made it there and Noah steadied him with two strong hands and a firm stare, “He's coming back and you're going to sit here at this table like I had to do when he was ten and tell him he owes you an explanation. Don't ask him like that shrink says you should do. Tell him he owes you. He crossed a line. He's gotta walk back over it and apologize like an adult now. You're owed that. You going to remember that when he shows up?”

Derek was too nauseous to reply so he just nodded.

“Pity's sake, Noah, he's going to puke. Let him sit down,” Melissa scolded, “Here, Derek, I'll get you some tea. Thank goodness it was a mild strain. I guess Stiles knows a bit about wolfsbane.”

“Where would he learn that from?” Noah asked, “We don't have that info at work. The bullets come with the wolfsbane inside already.”

“We learn the most common strains in med school,” Melissa considered, “He could find out from a textbook, the internet-”

“He's _sheltered,”_ Noah argued.

“He's _smart_ ,” Derek insisted.

“He's here,” Melissa gestured toward the driveway, “That's his jeep at the end of the road. I'd recognize that signature flickering headlight with partial duct tape cover anywhere.”

Derek cocked his head, listening as the car stopped and Stiles got out. His heartbeat was too far away to hear yet, but once the back door opened there it was. The reassurance that Stiles was alive, safe, _whole,_ and coming back to him. Noah nudged Melissa and the two slipped out the door, Noah hissing under his breath.

“ _Don't let him push you around.”_

Derek had every plan not to let Stiles get away with _drugging him_ and leaving him on the kitchen floor to be found by a terrified Melissa. She'd called his _father_ , so at the very least Stiles was in parental trouble if not legal. There was no keeping this a secret now. Whatever he'd been doing-

_He'd gotten hurt doing it!_

Stiles grabbed his face and kissed him hard, but Derek pushed him away.

“Seriously,” Derek's eyes burned red, “ _Not this time.”_

“You sure you want to know?” Stiles asked.

“Yes!”

“It will make you an accomplice,” Stiles narrowed his eyes.

“I'm your mate,” Derek spoke through ground teeth, “I should be the only damn accomplice you have!”

“Family okay with you?” Stiles sighed, leaning his head on Derek's shoulder, “Also, can you carry me to the car? Confessions aren't smart in houses full of werewolves.”

Derek scooped Stiles up, anxiety rolling in his gut. This sounded serious. More serious than Derek had expected. He got chills sliding Stiles into the passenger seat. This felt like they were headed towards something terrifying. Inevitable. Dangerous. They drove towards the main square of town, Stiles directing him until they reached the local Walmart. Then they got out and headed into the store, Stiles grabbing a basket as he went. They walked the store aimlessly, not picking up anything. Stiles wasn't glancing at the stock. He was glancing at the cameras, but casually. Checking his hair. Smirking at Derek and wiggling his butt. Flirting. His scent didn't smell flirty. It smelled tired and strained but stubborn. Then they passed someone dressed exactly like Stiles with moles dotting his face and some sort of putty to make it look like...

“Fucking hell...” Derek breathed.

“We're clear of the cameras, it's fine,” Stiles told him when Derek tried to school his expression, “Come this way. We have two hours to kill while my doppelganger makes sure my alibi is rock solid.”

“Stiles, what are we about to do?”

“I wouldn't ask you to do what I've done,” Stiles told him, “It wouldn't be right or fair. Besides, your mother and I had it handled.”

“My _mom?”_

CHAPTER

Liam was about Stiles' height and he owed Stiles for trying to grab his groin during an outing with Scott when they were sixteen. Stiles hadn't told his dad, who would _definitely_ have broken the kid's arm. Liam was also in deep shit with the state, so Talia had something on him as well. She was going to give him free legal counsel if he covered for Stiles. Stiles drove his jeep to the check point, making sure he was seen in traffic lights, and then went off the obvious path to pick up Liam.

Stiles got out of the car after handing Liam- in a fairly realistic prosthetic disguise- his wallet, keys, and cell phone. Stiles had to ping off towers, appear in an ATM camera, and effectively be in two places at once.

Talia picked Stiles up in a stolen work utility vehicle. The owner wouldn't notice it was gone until morning, and by then it would be in the ocean if everything went as planned... which was why _absolutely nothing_ went as planned.

Talia and Stiles parked on the street beneath a phone pole and Talia changed into coveralls to climb the pole. Stiles was in skateboarding shoes, baggy jeans, too many shirts, and a backwards cap. He'd shaved his head for the occasion, which always made him look far younger. He had a backpack over his shoulder that was far too heavy and was making him lean sideways a bit.


End file.
